


Definitely Faking It

by FrazzledDragon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, And a little dash of angst, Can I tag it as hurt/comfort?, F/M, Faking Dating AU, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I don't know, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, Lance is a soft and flirty boi, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nothing explicit, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sharing a Room, Sickness, Slow Burn, Soft Keith (Voltron), again nothing explicit/agressive, briefly mentioned past homophobia, even if it's fake ;D, klance centric, lance pov, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-10-29 07:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 40,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrazzledDragon/pseuds/FrazzledDragon
Summary: The paladins have found a planet of allies who are willing to help fight Zarkon.The only catch? The paladins have to impress them first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WOW so this is really exciting for me :D This is the longest story I've ever successfully completed! (just over 40,000 words!!!)
> 
> I'll try to post chapters weekly, so it's not too overwhelming (if I forget to post please comment in all caps at me XD) and there should be right around 20-25 chapters when it's all said and done.
> 
> A /lot/ of my inspiration comes from feedback so please feel free to leave a comment with any thoughts or typos/errors you find! Hope you enjoy!!!

Princess Allura stands before the assembled paladins, her eyes bright. Coran stands at attention to her right, dignified and stiff. “Good news, paladins! We have recently received word from a new possible ally, and they’re powerful!”

The paladins smile, feeling a little of the weight on their shoulders fall away. The more allies they had, the better chance they had of defeating Zarkon. And if these allies are as powerful as Allura seems to think, it can only mean another advantage and they’d take any advantage they could get.

“That’s fantastic, Allura,” Shiro grins, his eyes warm and optimistic. “Who are they?”

“The Gutos. They’re a pious, superstitious people. Zarkon violates several of their policies and they are of the belief that his continued reign would bring the reckoning of their god.” She shakes her head, clearly unsure about this topic. “They seem… seem to think this god, if it were to awaken, would bring about the destruction of life as a whole. They are wholly devoted to ensuring this doesn’t happen. They are scholars, all telepathically connected and have trained for thousands of years as warriors. Their god demands that they remain prepared to defend it, in whatever way necessary. Every man, woman, child, and everything in between is a trained warrior and expert strategist.”

“That’s amazing!” Pidge squeaks, her eyes wide and shining. Every person and mouse in the room can hear her mind whirring with the possibilities. “I wonder… Will they let me run some tests?”

“Most likely, Number Five, they’ve already run them,” Coran pipes up, a satisfied smirk curling his mustache. “They’re incredible scientists, almost more advanced than the Olkari. They have spent hundreds of decaphoebs learning about their own biology. If you want to read up on them, chances are, they’ll have mounds of research and testing stored in their libraries.”

Even Hunk starts drooling at the prospect. “Imagine the evolution of their technology! Their law and religion! Their social dynamics! Their recipes!”

“ _ Possible _ allies?” Keith inquires, his voice full of suspicion and concern. The other paladins somber at his realization, turning nervously to look at Allura once more. “Why only possible?”

Allura smiles, the happiness fading from the expression as it becomes more forced. “Yes. That’s the slightly less exciting news. They are  _ very _ pious,  _ very _ superstitious. They only assist those who they believe their god smiles upon. We are invited to visit their planet to sign our treaty, but we are also required to mingle amongst their people and prove our compliance to their god’s will.”

“And what does that entail?” Shiro frowns.

She straightens, her hands folding firmly in front of her. “They are very much looking forward to meeting the paladins of Voltron. That isn’t what I’m worried about. They also are very interested in speaking with me, for whatever reason… However… there is a small… snag, as I believe humans would call it. Their religion is… strict, in many ways. There are many, many rules, but chief among them is that…” She shakes her head, not looking any paladin in the eyes. “They only trust those who have partners.”

Lance blinks, voicing the thoughts of everyone in the room. “Like, fighting partners? Work buddies? Or do… do you mean romantic partners? Like girlfriends, boyfriends? Datemates? Husbands, wives, house spouses?”

She smiles weakly. “Romantic partners. As young children, they are paired with other children they believe will best complement each child’s every strength and weakness. The Gutos are of the firm belief their god made them to be in pairs. They care not who the partner is, so long as they have one. They believe to be without a partner beyond the age of approximately eight earth years is a grave, unforgivable sin and those without partners are not to be trusted under any circumstances. In their religion, where their god is two beings as one, their devil is one being that never had a pair.”

The room goes quiet, the only noise the buzz of the Castle engines. 

“Allura,” Shiro begins finally, tiredly. “You do know that  _ none  _ of us currently have romantic partners.”

She nods, her mouth a firm line.

“And you told them we were  _ all _ coming.” Shiro was sounding infinitely less optimistic by the second. “All of us, who are all older than eight years old. All of us, who in their eyes, are grave sinners. All of us,” he rubs his eyes, as though he were trying to relieve a headache, “who are single.” The paladins feel the same, but don’t make it as obvious.

She nods again, an apologetic wince twisting her face. “I’m sorry. But not having them as allies was far too high a price to pay to consider the state of your love lives. And Coran and I have been considering this problem with as much consideration for your preferences as we could.”

“What do you mean, “considering this problem”?” Pidge sneers, her doubt clear on her face. “What did you do, go on Space Tinder and find us all dates?”

Allura shakes her head. “No, I didn’t find you dates, though I fail to understand how firewood would assist in that department?” When no one jumps to answer, she shakes her head again. “Regardless, Coran and I looked much… closer to home.”

“You mean partners within the team?” Keith groans in understanding, face red, looking almost as tired as Shiro. “You played matchmaker with us.”

“I don’t mean for any of you to actually become partners! Just… to fake it…” She smiles and winces in equal measure. “Chances are, we’ll have very little direct interaction with them after we sign this treaty and they can’t telepathically communicate with any race outside their own. A couple quintents, and this’ll all be over!” Her smile is weak, and she knows it. “Just enough to satisfy their worries we don’t work for their devil.”

“And if they discover we’re faking?” Keith argues, arms crossed. “I can’t imagine we’ll look exactly holy then. Surely, they understand their culture isn’t actually superior.”

“No, they definitely think they’re superior and in a lot of ways, they’re right, Number Four,” Coran shrugs. “But you do raise a good point. Allura, perhaps the truth won’t be as poorly received as you think. Surely, it cannot be received as poorly as lying to get them to sign the treaty.”

Allura crosses her arms. “They believe loyalty to their god comes before  _ everything _ , be it honesty or not. In their minds, there is no excuse for failing to follow their god, nor any religion that can compare theirs. Without partners, we’re no better than devils. With partners, even if it is only for while we are among them, we are loyal followers. To be honest with them would be diplomatic death. They would never trust us, never help us, even if we waited one hundred decaphoebs.”

Silence overtakes the group for a long and awkward moment. Shiro grunts finally, rubbing his sinuses. “Why is nothing ever easy?”

“How did you partner us up?” Lance asks, looking around to see if the others are as tentatively curious as he is. “There’s seven of us.”

“Shiro and I,-” no one misses Allura’s dark blush “-Hunk and PIdge, and you and Keith,” she sighs. “It’s not ideal, but it is the most advantageous groupings we could come up with. The Gutos aren’t currently aware of the existence of Coran, and he’s agreed to stay behind on the ship.”

Hunk and Pidge shrug, bumping knuckles. They both know they are close enough friends that this will be easy. Keith isn’t even looking at Lance, and is instead raising his eyebrows at Shiro, who is blushing just as darkly as Allura. Lance is looking at all the paladins (and Allura) collectively and gaping. 

“Now you know who she’d partnered you with, you suddenly have no problem with it?” Lance yelps, his voice a little shaky. “Allura and Coran decided all of this and we don’t get any say in it? Surely, we know ourselves better than she does?”

Shiro turns to Lance, his blush finally under control. “Lance, calm down-”

“Why am I the only one that’s not calm?! Thirty seconds ago, you were all as upset and concerned as I am, but now she’s said who you’re partnered with and you’re acting like I’m hysterical!”

“Lance, we’ve all resigned ourselves to this being the way it has to be,” Pidge placates, her eyes and voice completely free of judgement. Before she had known it was Hunk she was partnered with, she was in complete agreement with him. But it was  _ Hunk _ . They already had a strong and close relationship, so it would only take a little tweaking for it to be interpreted as romantic. “And besides, honestly? They did a pretty good job. If I were to partner us up based on compatibility and skill, I’d pick the same teams.”

“It’s only for a couple days, man. And we’re basically just teams, but we use the word “love” more often. And share a room. And spend most of every day next to each other. And pretend to be romantically involved all the time.” Hunk starts strong, but gradually grows quieter as his argument grows weaker.

“Keith and I argue  _ all the time _ !” Lance knows he’s losing this argument, and would be with Keith regardless, but he can’t help but be a little upset he was the only one with a problem with this. “Keith, back me up!” But when he turns to where Keith was standing before, he realizes he’s gone.

“It’ll be fine, Lance,” Allura purs soothingly. “You and Keith are both incredible warriors and very talented actors.” Judging solely by her facial expressions, her words seemed to have a second and slightly humorous meaning that Lance isn’t quite sure he understands. “I have no doubt you’ll be the most convincing out of all of us.” She squeezes his shoulder as she walks out of the bridge, Coran right on her heels.

Shiro stares at Lance for a moment, mind clearly elsewhere, before also leaving.

Team Punk is right behind him, and if Hunk is to be believed, headed toward the kitchen for a snack of some alien assortment.

Lance walks toward the nearest window, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of it. He is nervous for this trip, more so than usual, and there’s no one he could talk to, no one he trusts. Allura could say whatever she wanted about his acting skill, but he just  _ knows _ he will be the one to mess it up for all of them. He isn’t a good actor, and where Keith is concerned… He is already a mess and this trip would only make it worse.

It isn’t that he hates Keith. Keith isn’t really the problem at all. Well… he hates that Keith has pretty eyes… and beautiful skin… and a cute smile… and an even more adorable laugh. He hates that whenever he makes physical contact with Keith, his lungs forget how to do their job and that whenever Keith looks him in the eyes, his heart flutters out of control. He hates that he truly likes Keith, both as a friend and something more and that he can’t figure out how Keith feels about him in return. He doesn’t want to offend him or disgust him; that was the  _ last _ thing he wants. 

He hates that he is terrified of spending that much time with Keith, because he doesn’t trust himself not to mess up their relationship. Sure, they aren’t as close as Lance might like, but at least they probably don’t hate each other. They are kind of like friends, but with more yelling involved. When it counted, they were close, he supposes. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe he  _ is _ a little hysterical over nothing. But still, his mouth has a habit of running ahead of his brain, and that could easily be dangerous where Keith was concerned.

The bridge doors make a soft  _ woosh _ as they open and Lance turns to see who’s coming in, only to quickly turn back around, his heart racing.

Keith pads over to him quietly, taking a seat next to him. Keith pulls his knees to his chest. Neither boy looks at the other, eyes firmly fixated out toward the cosmos. For a long moment, they don’t speak.

“Am I really that bad?” Keith asks softly.

Lance’s lungs and heart both decide to stop all at once and he chokes for a moment. “No! You’re- I mean- That’s-That’s… That’s not what I meant.”

“I understand that this isn’t ideal for either of us, but… the way you fought against this plan… I… I mean… You… I’m sorry…” Keith moves to get up and leave. But Lance’s hand on his arm stops him. Both freeze. They make eye contact now, blue eyes meeting purple. Lance is quick to retract his arm and tear his gaze away.

“Sorry… I just… It’s not your fault, okay? I freaked out for no reason and was totally an asshole. You’re not that bad. Of course you’re not.” Lance smiles weakly. “I… I just… I’m not good at flirting. Or relationships.”

Keith’s eyes widen in surprise. “You flirt _all_ _the time._”

Lance shakes his head with a sad smile. “Yes, but not well. I’ve never had a “romantic partner”, never even gone on a real date. Nobody takes me seriously. I’m… I’m just a joke, to everyone. Even to you guys.” He gestures to the Castle as a whole. “Everyone either writes me off as a flirt who doesn’t mean a word he says or leads me on in order to manipulate me. And I fall for it. Every time.”

“Oh,” Keith sighs, the awkwardness rolling off him in waves. “I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that.”

Lance plows on like he didn’t hear Keith, because to address that would be to guarantee he’d be a blushy, stuttery mess for the next varga. “So, when they told us we were going to have to pretend to be boyfriends or whatever, I panicked… Not because it was you… I probably made it sound like it was you, but it really wasn’t. I’m… I’m really sorry about that. It was  _ me _ I was panicking about. I just know I’m going to mess it up.” He doesn’t say it certainly doesn’t  _ help _ that it’s Keith, the too-damn-pretty boy he has a crush on, but he comes close.

Keith nudges him gently, getting Lance to look at him.

Lance almost chokes again.

Why does Keith always have to look so pretty? He has a soft smile on his face, his eyes warm and encouraging. His arms are wrapped loosely around his knees, the lights from the Castle highlighting him in all the right ways, pinks and blues and purples making him look soft and powerful and warm.

“I’m more worried about me messing it up to be honest, Lance,” Keith admits shyly. “I’m… not good at letting people get close to me… Bad experiences and all that shit. I’m terrified of this mission because I’m sure you’re going to try to do something any couple would do and I’m going to mess it up.”

Lance is drowning in Keith’s purple eyes, his heart pounding. What had he done to earn this soft and candid Keith?

“You can be so smooth, Lance. I… I wish I could do that. You can just… go with the flow. You can flirt with anyone, no matter what’s happening, and I just… I can’t. I get so… stuttery,” Keith chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

“Keith, are we sure we’re talking about the same Lance? I’m a mess. All the time.” Lance cannot  _ believe _ Keith thinks he’s smooth. Cannot  _ believe  _ it. The thought does make his heart warm though, a pleasant feeling curling in his gut.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“At least you don’t act like it,” Keith sighs, his heart not in the argument. “You look so confident.” He grins, nudging him again. “You definitely had me fooled.”

Lance grins in return. “You’ve fallen for my illusion! Adorable.” Keith flushes darkly and starts stuttering. Lance chuckles, ignoring the implications of  _ that _ and his own red cheeks, nudging him back. “You weren’t joking about the stuttering. But don’t worry, alright? You can follow my lead tomorrow. We’ll try not to mess up together, deal?”

“Deal.” Keith goes to leave again, and this time, Lance doesn’t stop him.

“Keith?” Lance calls suddenly.

Keith turns.

“Thanks… for… you know… listening?” He meant it more as a statement, but oh well.

“Anytime,” Keith murmurs with a soft smile and leaves.

Lance sits in silence for a long time, simply glowing with happiness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive.

After some mild arguing, they decide on the Black Lion for transportation to the Gutos’ planet. It  _ is _ the biggest after all, and arguably the most impressive. Once the Black Lion lands with a soft  _ woosh _ , the “couples” look at each other.

Shiro and Allura are first, as they’re the leaders. With a soft smile, they link arms and square their shoulders. They are the first faces the Gutos will see and they already have their “diplomatic leader faces” on.

Following them will be Pidge and Hunk, the engineer and genius. With a shared cheeky chuckle, Hunk hoists Pidge onto his shoulder, where she perches comfortably with an arm resting around Hunk’s head. She holds her tablet in her hands, prepared to document their visit as best she can.

Then come Keith and Lance, the warriors. They look awkwardly at each other, Keith already a blushy, stuttery mess. Lance had tried to throw his arm around Keith’s shoulder, but the red paladin shrugged it off with a shiver and an apologetic wince. Instead, Keith laces their fingers together. A simple gesture of togetherness. Lance smiles, rolling his shoulders to distract from his red cheeks, and squeezes Keith’s hand gently. Getting a squeeze in return, he faces toward the doors. They’re ready, as ready as they’ll ever be.

There is a huge crowd watching them disembark, hundreds of creatures that look vaguely like four foot tall cartoon chinchillas with exaggerated features. By means of applause, they appear to shimmy, which causes a rattling sound Lance isn’t sure of the origin of. It’s a little unsettling, watching chinchillas shimmy as a vaguely threatening rattling sound emanates from them, but he pretends it isn’t.

As the six finally reach the front of the crowd, a Guto wearing a glittering diadem steps forward. All the Gutos bow, so team Voltron bows as well. 

“Greetings, Voltron,” a voice high-pitched and smooth comes from the crowned Guto. “I am Emperor Meeth. Please, introduce yourselves and name your species.”

“I’m Princess Allura of Altea. I am Altean. This is my partner, paladin of the Black Lion, Takashi Shirogane. He’s human.” Miraculously, she doesn’t butcher the pronunciation of Shiro’s name and she bows again, low and long, Shiro following her lead.

Meeth inclines his head at them, eyes already fixed on the next pair. A Guto steps forward from the crowd and beckons to Allura and Shiro. This Guto wears a cloth with the diadem stitched into it. Allura and Shiro are quick to stand beside them.

Hunk and Pidge step forward. “I’m Katie Holt, paladin of the Green Lion. This is my partner, Hunk Garrett, paladin of the Yellow Lion. We’re both human.”

Once they had bowed and joined Allura and Shiro, Lance gently leads the way forward. “I’m Lance McClain. I have the honor of being the paladin for the Blue Lion. This is my partner Keith Kogane, and he’s the paladin for the Red Lion. We’re both… humans.” He’s frankly amazed his voice didn’t shake, amazed he didn’t mess up their names or their lions, but can’t help panicking about whether or not he should have told the truth about Keith’s genetics.

When they bow low, Keith squeezes his hand tightly. Lance isn’t sure if that’s an angry squeeze or a pleased one, which only makes his panic worse. Shiro isn’t glaring at him, though, and neither is Allura, so perhaps he did the right thing.

“Welcome again, paladins of Voltron and Princess Allura! The Gutos gladly welcome you into our midst and cannot wait to get to know all of you better. We hope more than anything you find your visit to be written by God.” The voice quiets then, only for the paladins’ ears. “Follow my companion Reeza here to your rooms. We would be delighted if you would join us for the midday meal in about two vargas from now. If anything is not to your liking, please, let someone know and they will ensure I hear about it.”

“Thank you, your majesty. Your welcome was most grand. May God sleep soundly,” Allura purrs, her voice confident despite her shaking hands. She had no idea how well that blessing will be received, but the Emperor smiles warmly and she trails after Reeza.

The other paladins, still linked with their partners, following her.

Reeza shows them each to their rooms, which are far enough apart that the pairs are guaranteed privacy, whether they wanted it from one another or not. Keith and Lance thank Reeza profusely and enter their room, shutting the door behind them. Only then, did they unlink their hands. 

They discover many interesting problems immediately.

First and foremost, there is only one bed and there is no other furniture that can be easily slept on. Worse than that, the bed is not particularly wide and is built like a cocoon, with taller sides and the mattress slightly slanted inward so they would be falling toward one another in their sleep. Lance’s eyebrows fly into in his hairline. This is going to be awkward and long, he concludes quickly, gaze focused on the bed.

“We’re gonna get real friendly, I guess,” Keith murmurs, and Lance glances to see what Keith is referring to. Keith’s eyes were on the bathroom and as Lance follows his gaze, his jaw drops.

There is  _ no  _ privacy, Lance realizes, his face getting hot. There is no wall, no door, not even a curtain separating the bathroom from the bedroom. The shower is completely open and the toilet faces the entryway. Real friendly indeed.

“Perfect,” Lance winces, trying to gauge Keith’s reaction with little success. Keith is like a stone wall, with the exception of the light pink dusting his cheeks. “We’re gonna have to figure out a system for that. I’m all for body confidence and self-love but I’m not super comfortable with having people watch me use the toilet and shower… No offense.”

Keith shakes his head in amazement. “Agreed. None taken.” He takes a seat on the wall of the bed, looking around the room. He had to leave his knife on the ship, and can’t help feeling naked without it. He hopes Lance can’t tell how awkward and intimate this setting feels to him, can’t tell how nervous he is. 

A glance shows him Lance looking almost completely at ease. And Lance thought he was a constant mess. Keith almost snorts at the thought. Had he  _ looked _ at Keith?

“Sorry I hesitated with your species, Keith,” Lance mumbles suddenly. “I wasn’t sure… I wasn’t sure if you wanted that to be public knowledge or not and I probably made it worse.”

Keith shakes his head again, meeting Lance’s eyes. “You’re fine, Lance. I appreciate it. I prefer to keep it private, especially with the peace treaty and everything going on. I honestly panicked so much when I realized you might have been expecting me to introduce us, I was just glad you spoke up at all. I would have mixed up our names or something equally embarrassing.”

“When you squeezed my hand, I couldn’t tell if it was an angry squeeze or comforting…” Lance admits quietly, a nervous smile on his face. “I panicked too.”

“We should come up with a system for that. Different squeezes for different things, so we can communicate privately. Their ears are so big, I doubt we can speak quiet enough that they won’t be able to hear us.”

“Good idea!... How about one short squeeze for no, a slightly longer squeeze for yes.” Lance holds out his hand, and Keith takes it as Lance demonstrates what he means. 

Keith tries it himself, nodding. “And since I feel like I’m going to need it, how about one longer squeeze for sorry?”

Lance nods his agreement. “And two short squeezes in a row for it’s okay.”

“I like that. From there, I think we can kinda extrapolate? Or is there something I’m forgetting?”

“I don’t think so. That should work.” Lance offers a fist for a fist bump, and Keith obliges. “We survived our first five dobashes,” he celebrates weakly, hopping up on top of the dresser and putting his head in his hands. “Only two more quintents.”

“What do you think they’ll have for lunch?”

Lance perks up at the thought. “Hopefully something good. I’m starving. Maybe they’ll let Hunk do the cooking for our group, since he knows what humans and Alteans and half-Galrans can safely eat without dying.”

Keith frowns, falling backward onto the bed. “I didn’t even think about that. What if they poison us on accident?”

“At least then, it won’t be our fault,” Lance chuckles, pulling open the drawers beneath him to see what they contain. “Whoa… hold on… Are… Are these for us?”

He pulls out a few garments, tossing a couple over on the bed for Keith to look at. “Matching outfits?” Keith mumbles in surprise. “Are… Are we expected to wear these? In public?” The particular garment in his hands had more holes than cloth.

“They didn’t say anything about that, but maybe that’s what this free time is for? For us to decide what to wear and change accordingly?”

“If it is, how are we supposed to know what to wear? I’ve never seen anything quite like this before… And what’s wrong with what we have on? I think we look very practical and professional.” Keith feels his heart start pounding with anxiety. He  _ hates _ guessing games like this, especially with alien cultures, especially with fashion.

Lance doesn’t seem to notice though, as he looks through a couple more of the garments, squinting at the fabric and doing his best to determine how each is worn. “We  _ are _ dressed practically, but maybe not appropriately? We stick out like sore thumbs. That could be interpreted as we’re ignorant of their culture and that’s not what we want. We have to look like we’re trying as hard as we can to be like them, to appease their god, so maybe dressing like them is part of it.” Keith is surprised, as Lance’s words are making a lot of sense and doing wonders for calming him down. Lance continues, “Midday meal is important, but I don’t think this one is  _ super _ important. Some of these fabrics seem nicer, like they’re intended for bigger functions, so I think we can safely assume those aren’t what we’re supposed to wear.”

He tosses some of the garments back into the drawer, examining the remaining ones closer. Looking closer at the garment in Keith’s hands, he flushes darkly. “These holey ones I’m pretty sure are for sleeping… and… uh…  _ other _ bedroom activities. They look like they’re designed so many different species can comfortably…  _ engage _ while wearing them.”

Keith blushes a bright red, he tosses the alien lingerie back in the drawer. “Not quite the look we’re going for,” he mumbles, wiping his hands on his pants. “At least I hope it’s not.” The garments would leave very little to the imagination and any movement at all would negate the need for imagination entirely. Neither teen was particularly comfortable with the idea of donning such an outfit for public consumption, even if it meant the loss of the alliance.

“Agreed.” Lance blushes even darker at the thought, before shaking his head. “A few are undecorated and plain, where some of the others are more ornate and pretty. Maybe, we pick a middle ground? Something with a little decoration, but not too much?”

“Sounds good to me… Do… Do you have a preference?” Keith looks at the ones in his hands that qualify as middle grounds, but doesn’t have anything pop out at him. 

“I… I actually kind of like these?” Lance pulls out a pair of garments, which look a little like tunics. They have 3⁄4 length sleeves with delicate fringe, and subtle but elegant silver stitch work along the collar and shoulders. Upon further inspection, Keith realizes the stitching depicts tiny diadems all the way around. Both garments are purple, but one is a warmer purple and one is cooler. Both have v-necks, and both would stretch to their mid-thighs, though the sides were slitted a little to improve mobility. Much more humble than the lingerie, but still practical and elegant.

Lance opens another drawer and finds bottoms, legging-like pants in dull whites, greys, and blacks. He selects a couple pairs of the white pants, and holds all the clothing up together. “What do you think?” He tosses Keith’s half of the matching outfits over to him. He hopes,  _ prays _ Keith doesn’t hate it.

He shrugs, finally sitting upright. “Looks fine to me. I don’t know if I’ve ever worn purple before.” Without a second thought, he pulls his jacket off, then his shirt. 

Lance blushes darkly and struggles not to stare, stripping his own shirt self-consciously as he hops down from the dresser. “Wasn’t your mom purple?”

Keith chuckles as he pulls the tunic over his head. “I guess…” He sits for a short moment, thinking, before standing on the bed to change his pants.

Mysteriously, Lance is turned resolutely toward the wall and changes with his back to Keith the entire time. To avoid flirting or saying something he’ll definitely regret, Lance says the first stupid thought that comes into his head. “Imagine if you were purple. Like… still a regular human, just with purple skin… That’d certainly be…  _ purple _ xing.”

Keith groans loudly, and Lance chances a quick glance back. Keith is smiling, wide and angelic, and Lance snickers. “Now now, don’t get  _ violet _ . I ser _ iris _ ly doubt  _ violets _ will solve this  _ purple _ xing  _ jam. _ Now,  _ mauve _ y I’m going a little overboard with all these  _ grape _ puns, but  _ lilac _ ly not.”

“You can’t reuse the same puns twice. That’s cheating,” Keith giggles despite himself, his gaze fond. “Besides, I’d still be the same person, even with purple skin. I would have just gotten locked up in some lab and never released.”

“Hunk, Pidge and I would have busted you out.”

“You wouldn’t have ever met me.” With a glance at his watch, Keith gets out of the bed and instead leans against the panelling.

“It wouldn’t be on purpose. It would be just like the night we left all over again. We’d just end up carrying a mutual, unconscious friend out of there and accidentally become teammates.”

Keith considers for a moment. “I want to say you’re wrong, but that’s probably exactly what would have happened. Y’all would have been horsing around where you shouldn’t have, and would have ended up in a top-secret government facility.”

The other teen snorts suddenly. “Y’all,” he echoes with a giggle.

Groaning again, Keith blushes. “Dammit.”

Fortunately, Keith is saved from whatever Lance was going to say by a knock on the door. “May I come in? It’s Reeza speaking. I have the honor of guiding you through the outfits in your drawers and helping you decide what to wear to the midday meal.”

“Come on in,” Lance calls. 

Reeza steps in, eyes immediately finding Keith and Lance’s new outfits with approval. “I see I am not needed. Did someone else come to assist you?”

Both teens shakes their heads nervously. “We just… sorta… guessed?” Lance offers with a wince. “Are these appropriate?”

Reeza smiles widely, nodding. “Yes! They are perfect! Are sure you are not well-taught in the ways of our fashion?”

“No,” Keith chuckles, with a glance at Lance. He laces their fingers together gently, though Lance can’t tell if it’s because of Reeza or because he wants to. He suspects the former, since the latter falls too close to his own desires. “Neither of us have been taught. He’s just really smart. He picked these out in like three dobashes.”

Lance’s cheeks flame. “You could have too! I just started first.”

“I don’t have your eye for fabrics, Lance. I could never have got this far.”

“You can tell when something’s shiny and when it’s not!”

“Shininess doesn’t indicate worth!”

“I did not wish to cause distress!” Reeza yelps, cowering by the door. “I am most sorry!” Both teens turn to look at her in shame.

“We weren’t actually fighting, Reeza,” Keith winces, trying to smile. “It’s alright.”

“We’re flirting,” Lance says, with more confidence than he feels. He squeezes Keith’s hand for a long time. “We’ve always done it. We never really fight, just pretend. It’s all play, I promise. It’s our way of telling one another we care, and of helping each other to relieve stress or frustration.”

He gets two faint squeezes in return.

“You… have no anger?” Reeza asks, eyes wide. 

“Nope. We’re just playing. We’re very sorry we scared you. Really,” Lance smiles warmly, offering his other hand to help Reeza stand. “Humans don’t have as good of hearing as Gutos do, and we forget how loud we can be sometimes.”

Reeza takes it, a curious smile crossing furry lips. “Intriguing. Do all humans flirt this way?”

Lance glances at Keith, sending another  _ I’m sorry _ his way. “Nope, we’re kinda weird like that.”

Reeza’s eyes widen even more, interest dancing in the dark irises. “You are deviant from your species?”

“Not exactly!” Keith butts in, his eyes wide. Perhaps deviant has different connotations on this planet, but they can’t take that chance. Especially since the entire planet is telepathically connected. “We’re just… we communicate a little less directly.” Keith sends an  _ I’m sorry _ to Lance.

“I see.” Reeza’s eyes fall closed for a moment, and Keith and Lance glance at each other again, unsure of Reeza’s actions. Dark eyes shoot open and both teens jump. “My apologies, paladins. Please, excuse me. Others of your group are in need of my assistance and Emperor Meeth desires my company. Midday meal is in one half varga, if you walk along the corridor to the left, you will find the dining hall.”

And with that, Reeza leaves. 

Keith and Lance look at each and withdraw their hands, only to smack themselves in the forehead. “Did I mess it up already?” Lance practically yells, his eyes wide with panic.

“Sonuvabitch... Shiro’s gonna kill me,” Keith groans. “Flirting? Really? Did you have to tell Reeza we were flirting?”

Lance’s cheeks burn and he can feel his neck and ears grow hot, but he meets Keith’s gaze angrily nonetheless. He shouldn’t be as angry as he is, but he’s stressed and scared and Keith’s accusatory words send him over the edge. “You act like you weren’t there too. Did you have a better idea that you just failed to mention? You don’t get to throw  _ me _ under the bus for something you could have done yourself and didn’t! You think I like having to come up with lies like that on the spot? You think I like the pressure of having to make all these people believe that you like me? Even love me?” He snarls, the venom dripping off his tongue. He wonders if there are tears in his eyes. He’s not even sure if he means the words themselves, or if he more so means the implications underneath.

Keith freezes, his eyes wide, face growing hot. “Lance…” His voice is so soft, so delicate, Lance wonders if there really  _ are _ tears in his eyes. He wonders if Keith is going to address all those implications, stop his wondering once and for all. 

Then Keith shakes his head, and the delicacy of his voice seems to be shaken too. “You’re right. I shouldn’t judge. We’re both under a lot of pressure. And you already apologized. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Lance blinks. There  _ were _ the beginnings of tears welling in his eyes, but he quickly blinks them away. The room feels so empty, like he’s alone, even though Keith is standing right in front of him. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

It is a long wait until lunch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the act begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I already failed to get another chapter up by Friday, so I'm posting a bonus short chapter :D

Finally, a couple dobashes early, Keith and Lance awkwardly link hands and walk toward the meal hall. 

Lance  _ hates _ how quiet they are, how uncomfortably far apart they’re standing, how he keeps sneaking glances at Keith and as soon as he looks away, he can feel Keith’s eyes on him like weights. He doesn’t trust his voice to properly put words to his thoughts, so instead, he squeezes Keith’s hand tightly for a long moment.  _ I’m sorry _ . Through hand squeezes, he can’t say he’s sorry for yelling, sorry for saying it was flirting, sorry for making Keith uncomfortable, sorry for implying that Keith needs to pull his own weight, sorry for hurting him, sorry for tearing up, sorry for everything he implied, sorry for everything he said and did. But,  _ I’m sorry  _ seems like a good start.

He watches Keith’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Keith takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing incrementally. Two, short, soft squeezes.  _ It’s okay. _

“No, it’s not,” Lance murmurs quietly, hoping no one is around to listen but not really caring even if there is. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” Keith responds, his voice equally quiet. “I forgive you, Sharpshooter.” Though the nickname is silly and playful, his tone isn’t - it’s heavy and careful and sincere. 

Lance understands, relief flooding him, because Keith  _ understands _ , and then responds in kind. “I forgive you too, Samurai.”

They still walk in silence, but now their shoulders knock together every few steps and it doesn’t seem so quiet anymore.

The lunch hall is surprizingly quiet as they walk in, which causes Lance’s pulse to jump with anxiety. What was wrong? Why was no one talking?

“Telepaths,” Keith whispers in his ear, making him shiver, but relief washes over him. Of course there wouldn’t be conversation - thoughts aren’t audible. Lance’s thumb rubs Keith’s hand for a moment.  _ Thanks _ .

Shiro beckons to them from a glass table near the front, and Keith and Lance make their way over to him. Shiro’s wearing a pretty tank-top in a bright pink with black stripes, Allura wearing the same but opposite: a black tank-top with bright pink patterning. Both have diadems stitched in gold on their left hips. They sit across the rectangular table from one another, and Pidge sits on Allura’s right. Hunk is on Shiro’s left. Hunk is decked in a long, loose dress, with swirls of yellow and green. Pidge is in a shorter version of the same garment. Diadems are weaved elegantly and subtly into the pattern. Keith and Lance take the open seats on either side of the two leaders.

“How are you two?” Allura asks sweetly, clearly aware of the many, many ears listening in on their conversations. Keith and Lance are both keenly aware of her underlying questions. “Make sure you try the bird! We had it all the time on Altea and it’s truly fantastic!”

“We’re great,” Keith smiles, following Allura’s advice with the bird and loading a polite serving onto his plate. “Lance picked out our outfits and everything!”

“How are your rooms? Are they suitable?” Emperor Meeth questions from the head of their table, his eyes piercing.

Lance glances at Keith, then nods. “They’re perfect! I’ve never seen a design quite like them before though, I must admit. Surely, they didn’t start as beautiful and simplistic as that. How did they evolve into what they are today?”

The paladins sigh in collective relief as Meeth jumps into an in-depth description of the history of Guton architecture as Lance listens enraptured, occasionally questioning points he didn’t understand and keeping him talking. Lance was saving them all the trouble of polite conversation, and they vow silently not to forget it.

Soon enough, the meal is over and the other paladins hardly had to speak at all. Keith is quick to grab Lance’s hand as they prepare to follow the other paladins toward whatever the afternoon promised. “Thanks,” he whispers in Lance’s ear, briefly squeezing his hand tightly.

Lance simply chuckles, shaking his head. “I didn’t ask for you guys, actually. History is really interesting, to me at least. I think it’s really fascinating to learn about, and who better to ask then our gracious host?”

Keith smiles in wonder, bumping Lance’s shoulder. “Really?”

“Yeah. Earth’s history is so crazy and wild, it kinda inspired me to learn more about other cultures. There’s lots of similarities, actually. Most of the differences lie in  _ when _ the stages of evolution happen. Humans were really slow on the uptake for a lot of things, so learning about people like the Gutos, who when we were just starting to form hunter/gatherer societies, were already working on space travel… It’s just mind-boggling.” Lance’s eyes shine with passion, and Keith squeezes his hand again, gently.

“That’s really neat, Lance… You should talk more about history and stuff. I’d probably learn more from you than any of the Garrison teachers. It’s… It’s cool to hear you talk about what you’re passionate about.”

Lance blushes darkly, lowering his face, his voice a low murmur. “... Thanks, Keith.”

Keith flushes too, seeming to realize the extent of what he just said a few ticks too late. He coughs awkwardly, his eyes searching for  _ anything  _ to look at other than Lance, who is undoubtedly doing something adorable. His gaze finds the list of available activities on the board, and he coughs again. “What do you want to do this afternoon? I’m sure we’re expected to stay together.”

“I’m up for whatever you want to do,” Lance shrugs stiffly, eyes darting to read through the list himself. Almost tentatively, he says, “Even if we aren’t required to stay together, I’m not sure I want to do anything here alone.”

Keith lets out a low chuckle, nervous too. “Me neither… Are you sure there’s nothing you want to do?”

Lance laughs, and the tension seems to break finally. Keith briefly wonders if Lance’s laugh could bring universal peace. “You’re ridiculous. There’s always tomorrow. You pick. It all looks fun anyway.” His face sours as he scans the list again. “Except maybe the strip club. I’m not sure I’m in the mood for that right now.”

Keith flushes darkly. “Can’t argue with that. What about the melee tournament? Or the gym?”

Lance’s eyes light up. “The melee sounds like fun. One of us is definitely gonna win. I mean… dude, after all, we’re the _warriors _of _Voltron_. The _hot_, _mighty_ _warriors_,” he purrs, eyes only for Keith as he waggles his eyebrows, just to watch Keith roll his eyes and smile.

“I doubt they’d let us fight in it. I’m sure it’s just for Gutos.” Lance shrugs and nods, looking over the list for a third time, hoping something as distracting as a melee they could fight in would spring out at him. 

“On the contrary,” Reeza interjects, coming up from behind them, “they’d welcome new competitors with open minds. Many of the competitors have fought before and will fight again. Something new in the arena, something unpredictable would be exciting. As all Gutos can read one another’s mind, it makes a battle such as this more who can last longest rather than who can fight best.”

Lance grins and nudges Keith. “See? We’ll be the best. We’re both unpredictable and good fighters. We should totally do it. Plus, we can answer the age old question: who’d win in a fight between me and you.”

“ _ Or _ , we’ll make huge fools of ourselves and put Voltron to shame,” Keith weakly argues in his typically optimistic fashion. 

“I doubt that highly,” Reeza says warmly, smiling at the two. “You two seem highly competent and as the tournament is fought in pairs, I foresee you two doing very well. The two of you seem very compatible.”

“It’s fought in pairs!? Even better!” Lance cheers, directing another winning smile at Keith. “We’ve  _ gotta!  _ C’mon! The only thing more fun than watching a melee is participating!”

“You’ve never watched or participated in a melee,” Keith deadpans, completely guessing, but Lance’s giggle in response makes his heart melt and his face soften. Yep, his laughter can definitely stop wars.

“You have a point. Which is why we’ve  _ got _ to now that we have the opportunity! Besides, you said you wanted to do it  _ and _ you said you wanted to do what I wanted to do!” He begs, and Keith relents with a smirk.

“Fine, but if we lose, you get to explain why all the Gutos laugh at us to Shiro.”

“Which is exactly why we can’t lose!” Lance shivers with excitement, turning to Reeza. “Do you mind telling us where the arena is?”

Reeza smiles. “Follow me.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melee time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who forgot to update when they said they were going to again?
> 
> Guess you get two more chapters XD

Keith fingers the edge of his sword, mentally checking his and Lance’s armor for the umpteenth time. Lance is stretching on the floor by his feet, and he can feel the tension that comes before a fight settling on his frame.

Lance has the unpredictability and Keith has the stamina. Together, Keith realizes, they could definitely win this. Or, Reeza could’ve told them all to go easy on them, and they could be making giant fools of themselves. Or worse, Reeza could’ve told them and then they could  _ still _ lose from just how inferior they were.

“We’re definitely gonna win,” Lance smiles up at him, his dimples creating little pockets in his cheeks. Keith had never noticed them before. They are, as dimples usually are, adorable in every way. Keith wants to stare at them longer, but is starting to get the impression that perhaps responding would be a better idea.

“Uh… hopefully,” he stammers, blushing as he looks away and steps further back to stretch a little himself. Not that he needs it, but it can’t hurt. Besides, Lance is doing it and they are supposed to be a pair, after all. “Did you have to pick purple?”

“The man said we needed a team color!” Lance grins, eyebrows waggling again. “You’re red, I’m blue… We’re together… It seemed appropriate.” His grin takes a turn for the cheeky. “What, you don’t want to be mixed up with me?”

Keith stammers again, but no intelligible words come out, his thoughts and heart racing too fast to be translated into human words. Besides, there’s no way to answer it without offending him or revealing something he doesn’t even quite recognize himself, so that’s not an option. “Uh…”

Lance chuckles and stands, holding his hand out for Keith. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Keith smiles weakly, intertwining their fingers. Lance bumps his shoulder gently, their armor clanking loudly.

“For luck.” Lance’s voice is nothing more than a whisper, his breath warm on Keith’s cheek.

Keith copies him. “For luck.”

Lance grins, and they make their way out of the prep room.

There’s forty pairs in total, so 78 separate opponents. Keith takes stock as he looks around the arena - several pairs are sparring with one another, practicing. Reeza was right - a lot of these pairs either fight very sporadically, or they fight like it’s a long, slow, dance that they have to save their energy for. It’s not that they’re bad fighters, it’s simply because they can’t truly fight against someone that knows their every move.

“What’s our strategy?” Keith whispers in Lance’s ear, hoping the din of the arena will dissuade any eavesdroppers.

“Stick together and win?” Lance grins, wielding the sword a little awkwardly. “I think the big thing we need to be careful of is to not let them separate us.”

Keith nods, his eyes on Lance’s grip. “Try holding the sword a little looser. Swordfighting is a lot less tense than you think. Stay loose and on your toes, and fight like your sword is an extension of your arm.” He glances up at the clock, and upon seeing they had several dobashes before they were to begin, he holds his sword up. “Want to spar? Get you used to the weapon?”

Lance pauses a moment, glancing around the arena then at the clock himself. “Sure, I guess.”

Keith attacks without warning, and Lance blocks on instinct. Lance, stronger than Keith, pushes him back, staying on his toes, and swings clumsily at Keith’s side. Keith blocks it easily, advancing again. Though he doesn’t think it or say it in so many words, he’s trying to overwhelm Lance. He’s far better with the sword and has no doubts that he can overwhelm him if he tries. From experience, he knows that fighters are at their worst when they are overwhelmed. If he goes easy on Lance, he won’t know how the pressure affects him until the actual fight. 

Lance, however, simply keeps blocking and dodging, giving ground easily. The Gutos around them stop to watch, and Keith can feel the eyes on them. Lance doesn’t seem to notice, mouth set in a determined line as his eyes dart to follow Keith’s blade. 

If the dull blade hits him, it probably won’t cut him open, but it won’t feel good. Lance knows Keith would try to pull back before actually hitting him, because this was practice, but he doesn’t want to test Keith’s reflexes.

Lance lets Keith push him back to the wall, a grim little smile working its way across his face. Keith, by skill alone, definitely could destroy him, which is why Lance has a plan that he can now put into action.

The walls are made of fabric, a thick canvas from what Lance can tell. Keith’s blows have a significant amount of power behind them - Lance just hopes it’ll be enough. Keith strikes at his neck, and he drops his body toward the ground. Just like Lance predicted, Keith steps forward, swings vertically down at Lance, and gets his blade stuck in the canvas just above Lance’s head. 

Lance grins. He can see Keith’s muscles convulsing to pull to blade free - it won’t be more than a tick before he’s swinging again. But Lance doesn’t need a tick. He launches himself into Keith’s torso, blades forgotten.

Keith lands hard on his back with a soft  _ oof _ , Lance on top of him. Quickly, Lance pins his arms above his head. “Good job,” Lance pants, his grin satisfactory. He’s glad he’s red enough from the exercise that Keith can’t tell how red he is from their…  _ friendly… _ position. “You almost had me.”

Keith, his cheeks pink and his lungs screaming for air, shakes his head. “That was a cheap shot.”

“You were supposed to teach me how to use the _sword_, not teach me how to improvise.”

“I didn’t say teach. I said get you used to it. Different thing entirely.” 

“Riiight.” Just then, the buzzer warning the competitors they have one dobash to prepare goes off, and Lance gets off of Keith, offering him a hand to help him stand. “We’re so gonna win this.”

Keith grins, cheeks still pink. “Definitely.”

They go and grab their swords. There’s only a few rules to the melee: no killing, no cheating technology, and no other weapons besides the provided swords. They are so ready, and as they look up at the stands, they can see the other paladins and Emperor Meeth watching. 

Another buzzer: thirty ticks.

Keith and Lance press their backs together. They’ve done this before. They’ll do it again. They can win this. This is nothing.

And the melee begins.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge being Pidge

Shiro watches with interest as the two purple-clad paladins spar below. He knows what Keith is trying to do, but Lance simply takes the flurry of attacks in stride. He shows no signs of stress, so Shiro guesses he has a plan. As he presses his back up against the wall, Shiro  _ knows _ his plan. He almost chuckles as Keith follows the plan almost perfectly, and Lance tackles him to the ground.

Unorthodox, yes. But illegal, no.

They could definitely win this. Though if Keith kept getting so frazzled every time Lance got close, it could be a close call. Shiro honestly wasn’t sure how Lance didn’t see it. The sexual tension between them was enough to choke anyone in close range. It was why they were always arguing, he was sure.

Allura’s hand slips onto his thigh, squeezing gently. “Do you think they can win?” She asks softly, head resting on Shiro’s shoulder. There’s an unasked question,  _ can they get along long enough to win _ , floating between them, but Shiro answers confidently.

“I think they can. Keith is skill and Lance is unorthodox. Both of them are powerful fighters - probably the best out of all of us.”

Allura nods, fingertips exploring Shiro’s thigh, much to his embarrassment. No one else seems to notice, but he can feel his cheeks warming. Mostly because this isn’t required - she doesn’t have to be doing this now, but she is anyway, which is  _ very _ telling about… something. Perhaps people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. “How many pairs did they say there were?”

“Forty,” Pidge supplies, eyes scanning the arena with curiosity. “But it’s every pair for themselves, so Keith and Lance might only personally fight maybe ten people.”

“It should be a melee to remember,” Meeth says. “May the best warriors win.”

And the buzzer goes off again, and the melee begins.

Pidge’s eyes track Keith, Hunk’s arm around her shoulders tightening every time the pair comes close to another opponent. Despite her original concerns with them fighting on the same team, they fight like they’re just as psychically connected as the Gutos, their movements fluid and their advancements synchronized.

It’s kind of miraculous to watch them together, feels a little like something holy. They fight like they’re two opposite halves of the same whole and honestly it makes watching them an  _ Experience™. _ Pidge watches with growing interest as slowly, seemingly effortlessly, the paladins decked in purple mow down their opponents. 

It’s not that the Gutos are bad fighters, she notes. Every stroke, if it were to hit home, would be the perfect stroke, and their form is immaculate every time. They’re just used to the same dance they always do when they fight one another. Keith and Lance dance to their own, fast-paced tune and clearly, the Gutos never took this into account.

She watches, hands curling into her dress, as three teams make eye contact, then converge on Keith and Lance as one. Pidge glances at Emperor Meeth, watching him frown. 

“They’ve gotten annoyed with their talent and upper hand and decided to work together to take them out. I can’t stop them, and they know they’ll have to fight one another in the end. They are aware of my disapproval, but technically, it’s also a solid battle strategy, so I can’t really fault them. And if the paladins can’t handle it… well…” His words sound apologetic, but Pidge gets the feeling he’s more pleased they came up with a new strategy, pleased that his potential allies are going to lose against his warriors in an unfair fight.

“You don’t think they’ve ever been outnumbered and overwhelmed in the fight against Zarkon?” Pidge snips back, a little affronted at his audacity. “They’re warriors. Maybe not as pretty and perfect and technical as yours, but they are  _ easily _ just as scrappy. And with Zarkon, it’s not a fight until a dulled sword touches your chest. It’s a fight to the death. We don’t  _ get _ to walk away if we lose a fight. We don’t  _ get _ to try again another day. If we  _ lose _ ? So does the universe.

“And, in case I haven’t made my point clear enough yet,” -even Shiro is looking at her with wide and panicked eyes now, and Hunk squeezes her shoulder in a death grip, a silent warning to shut up- “those paladins down there? For humans, they are little more than children. We, in comparison to  _ your _ army, are  _ barely _ adults for our species and  _ hardly _ trained with the weapons we wield. And these  _ children _ are  _ whooping _ your biggest, strongest, most fight-hungry warriors’ butts. Easily enough that these warriors feel the need to team up, three on one. These children, one of which never even  _ uses  _ a sword, has never even held one. These children, who can’t harden their fur to make impenetrable armor-” Meeth has the good sense to look a little embarrassed as the other paladins widen their eyes, this time at Meeth. “- and can’t communicate with one another telepathically.

“They fight this well because they’ve worked hard, fought horrible nightmares, and lived every damn day knowing the fate of the entire flipping universe rests on their shoulders, all so they can save selfish, pretentious, ungrateful jerks like you, who, despite their assurances they’re amazing and great and spectacular, have yet to join the fight, have yet to take a side. Speak with a little respect or shut the hell up.” She meets Meeth’s gaze and holds it firmly. She will not back down. 

He blinks first. “My apologies, Green Paladin. You are, of course, correct. I was being insensitive, and all those other things you listed. I have done nothing for the fight against Zarkon, nothing to even the odds against the Gutos for your paladins. My deepest apologies to all of you. Please know you all have a great deal of my respect and I hope God dreams of your success.”

The other paladins blink, once, twice, three times, all staring at Pidge. 

“PIDGE!” Hunk whispers, regaining his voice first.

PIdge turns unblinking eyes on Hunk. “Yes?”

Hunk turns back around, silent, his mind reeling. How did _she_ get the Emperor to admit he was, in fact, a selfish, pretentious, insensitive, ungrateful jerk _and_ _apologize_ to them? “What?!” He finally manages, still at a whisper.

“It needed said,” she murmurs back, explosively cheering as Keith and Lance knock the odds back down to one to one. Lance dispatches his enemy with a quick thrust and immediately turns on Keith’s, who falls quickly beneath their combined efforts. 

Keith and Lance fall into position, back to back, scanning the arena.

They’ve won. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An adventure in lying and flirting and the combination of both.
> 
> And also the first night with the Gutos ;P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm two days late but this chapter is a bit longer??? I'll post another to apologise yet again D: I've had a helluva weekend...
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's commented or left kudos or even silently enjoyed the story at all! This is a story I'm really proud of and the kind of positive reaction this has gotten really makes me happy :D
> 
> I think I'm going to change my update days to Saturday, so then I'm not continuously missing my deadline because fridays, for whatever reason, are not working for me XD If I think of it, I'll post on fridays, but no promises :D

Lance pants as he looks around the arena. Is it over? Did they really win?

The stands are quiet, except for Pidge, who’s cheering and screaming her approval. The other paladins appear to be frozen, staring at Pidge, but Lance writes it off as Pidge being Pidge and slumps to the ground. It was a hard fight, and he feels he’s earned a quick break on the ground.

Keith slumps down next to him, panting and drenched in sweat. “We won,” he gasps with a grin. Lance cannot believe how beautiful he looks, even smelly and sweaty and nasty.

“Yeah,” he smiles tiredly. “We did.”

“I wonder what Pidge did,” Keith nods toward the stands. “The others are still staring at her and she’s not even cheering anymore.”

“Probably something that needed to be done. You know how Pidge is. Honest to a fault, with little regard for royalty. Scratch that, no regard for royalty or really anyone of authority, except maybe Shiro..”

Keith grunts his agreement, his eyes focussed on their leader. “I guess Shiro hasn’t beheaded her yet, so he must agree at least on some level…”

“That’s the only way you can tell if he’s upset?” Lance frowns, a little confused. He thought Keith and Shiro were like brothers. He and his siblings were practically telepathic and always knew when the other was upset. Maybe Shiro and Keith weren’t as close as he thought. 

“From this distance it is,” Keith grins. “When we’re closer, I’ll try to explain some of his tells. He’s pretty good at hiding them, which is what makes him such a good leader, but he’s gotta vent somehow.”

“And you know them all? All the tells?”

“Not all of them. Enough.” Keith begins to stand as the Gutos around them start to move, offering Lance a hand. “What’s happening now?”

“To the winners!” Meeth booms from where he and the paladins sit. “The Red and Blue Paladins of Voltron!”

Lance laces his fingers with Keith’s, then raises their hands high above their heads. The Gutos cheer and rattle, and Lance bumps his hip into Keith’s.

“I told you we could do it.” His voice is low, barely audible over the din of the crowd, and the flirty grin is only for Keith.

Keith meets the grin with one of his own, his eyes bright with affection and challenge. “I never doubted you.”

At the evening meal, Keith shifts uncertainly in the outfit. It’s not that the fabric is uncomfortable, more so the fact that, for the first time in his life, he’s wearing a dress. The fabric is actually silky soft and the dress is fairly loose and comfortable. His and Lance’s dresses match, brass-colored fabric with elaborate royal purple stitching, stitched diadems adorning their collars.

Keith glances at Lance, watching him animatedly talking with Shiro about the melee. Despite the fact that they're both wearing dresses and jewelry, as Guton etiquette requires more fancy dress for dinner, Lance looks comfortable as ever, the clip in his hair glittering with every movement. 

He fingers the earring dangling from his ear. He doesn’t have his ears pierced, so the earring is pinching his earlobe in order to stay attached. It aches a little and he already can’t wait to take it off. Lance helped him pin a lot of his hair up and behind him, so his neck feels bare too. He’s never tied his hair up like this.

“Isn’t that right, Keith?” Lance chuckles, looking now at him with an affectionate grin. Keith wonders briefly how he makes such a lovely expression.

He wonders less briefly what they are talking about and what he should answer. “What?” he mumbles eventually, suspecting he looks a little like a deer in the headlights. 

Lance and Shiro laugh, Shiro then wandering away to find Allura, who had gone in search of more bread rolls, when Meeth speaks up again. “You do not use names.”

Now, Lance mirrors Keith’s startled expression. “What?” They ask in sync. Lance is fairly certain he just called Keith by his name, and knows he called Shiro by his name throughout the conversation.

“The others, they call each other sweet names. The Yellow Paladin says they are called… pet… names? Nick… names? I must confess, I am rather uncertain of these words. We do not have these words in Gutose.”

“Oh!” Lance says in recognition, but Keith’s sure his face is showing how much he’s panicking. “RIght… Sorry to concern you… We try not to use them in public, because it makes Keith here blush like crazy and he doesn’t like people seeing him all red in the face.” Lance sends a long, long squeeze Keith’s way, and Keith relaxes a little. He sends two squeezes back.

“So you use these names in private?” Meeth seems genuinely intrigued by the concept.

“Of course,” Lance smiles, nudging Keith. “Though I suspect I’ll have to show these lovely people how much you can blush at  _ some _ point. You guys will  _ love _ it! It’s just too adorable not to show off.”

Lance makes eye contact with Keith, the smile still affectionate and convincing, but his eyes hold a seriousness that Keith understands. If Keith wanted him to stop, he would without question.

“What are some of these names? I have discovered in your short time here that your nicknames are very different than the ones we commonly use.”

Lance freezes now, and Keith nudges him back and speaks. “We don’t have a lot of common ones that we use. A lot of our pet names are super specific to us. Like, he calls me Samurai and I call him Sharpshooter.”

“What is samurai?”

“A sword fighter,” Keith shrugs, squeezing Lance’s hand long and hard. Two short squeezes come back his way.

“Fascinating. And these names hold affection for you?”

Both Keith and Lance blush darkly. “Yes,” Keith manages, hoping Lance can’t tell how true that little nugget of information is because  _ that _ conversation would be an unmitigated disaster. “We use them as a sign that everything’s okay, you know?”

“I’m afraid not. Gutos are mentally connected from birth, so we always know when one is not okay. When situations are not okay.”

Keith chuckles nervously, looking to Lance as a signal for him to take over. “I call him Mullet-head a lot,” Lance pipes up, finally seeming to recover. “A mullet is the haircut he’s had ever since I met him. He can’t seem to bring himself to get a regular haircut.”

Meeth looks amused. “I continue to forget that your species delights in removing hair,” he chuckles. “Whereas the Gutos do their best to keep their hair as long as physically possible. It serves as armor and a status symbol.”

“He always complains about my hair and how I should get it cut, but really he loves it. He’d probably cry if I actually chopped it off.” Keith insists with a playful nudge, trying to ignore the anxiety crawling up his throat. He squeezes Lance’s hand again.

“You got me,” Lance says softly, holding his free hand up in surrender. Keith’s heart races. He never gets two squeezes back.

“And what is your name for him in return, Red Paladin?” Meeth seems genuinely curious, studying their stances and the way their hands are interlocked.

“Uh… I don’t think I have a matching one for Mullet-head,” Keith winces. “I call him Tailor, sometimes, which is also a bad joke, but it doesn’t really match Mullet-head.”

“The Black Paladin and the Princess call one another names such as: honey, sweetheart, babe, and love. Do you use such names?”

Lance feels a little like a science experiment as he winks and leans closer to Meeth. “We use those in private, if you catch my drift.”

Meeth clearly does not catch Lance’s drift, but pretends he does anyway. “Interesting. Because they make the Red Paladin embarrassed?”

Lance blinks for a moment, stunned by the sheer innocence in the response. No chance in hell he’s ruining that. “Yep. Isn’t that right, babe?” Almost as though they had planned it out, Keith turns as red as his lion and can’t manage a single word. Lance bursts out laughing, a little relieved. “See? It’s simply not fair to do this to him in public.”

“Perhaps, but the only way for this condition to improve is to practice. And you’ll find no public more forgiving and patient than that of the Gutos.”

Keith squeezes Lance’s hand once, waiting a short moment, then again.  _ NO. NO. _

Lance smirks. “You do have a point.” A side glance at Keith shows just how panicked he is at the concept, and Lance nudges him affectionately. “Hey, don’t worry. It’ll be alright. We’re just teasing. Relax, okay?” Keith relaxes at Lance’s soft words, until Meeth speaks again.

“I was not teasing.”

“Oh,” Lance stumbles. “Right. Um. Hehe…” He looks to Keith for help, but Keith is still recovering. “I suppose we could work on getting you used to it? I… I was mostly joking, but he does raise a good point. And it would be quite a treat to see you blush all day.”

Keith finally speaks up, his cheeks still red. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Not really,” Meeth grins wickedly, but then his face softens into something more gentle. “To be comfortable with each other and the love you share, no matter the circumstances, is an excellent goal to strive for. It ensures that both will always feel loved and accepted and home, no matter the time, place, or company. You do love one another, do you not?”

“Of course,” Keith and Lance yelp in sync. 

“Then it is decided.”

“Great,” Keith and Lance, in sync once again, manage, with similar levels of sarcasm.

“Now, I must leave you. I have other business to attend to. Please, find Reeza if you need assistance with anything. You are welcome to wander our halls and or return to your rooms. I will have Reeza wake you in the morning, so don’t worry. Your comfort is of utmost importance to us.”

_ If only he knew how  _ uncomfortable _ he was making some of us,  _ Lance thinks wryly, turning to Keith as Meeth walks away. “What do you want to do?”

“Would you be disappointed if I said I wanted to go to bed?” Keith asks timidly, his eyes wide and innocent. Lance’s face melts into a warm smile and he briefly squeezes Keith’s hand.

“Not at all. I’m exhausted and there’s some things we need to talk through. Maybe we should let Shiro know, but after that, let's go to bed.”

Keith’s shoulders sag with relief. “Maybe we’ll have time to explore tomorrow.”

Lance nods distractedly, his eyes searching for Shiro. When he finally spots him, he leads Keith by the hand toward him. “We just wanted to tell you goodnight, Shiro. We’re going back to our quarters.”

Shiro understands the underlying message.  _ If shit hits the fan, we’re in our room.  _ “Goodnight, guys. See you both in the morning. Don’t forget, brings your brains to breakfast tomorrow. We start working toward a treaty and Allura and I could really use you guys’ input.”

“Night, Takashi,” Keith murmurs, and together, they walk away, hand in hand.

They don’t say a word until they get to their quarters, both separating immediately. “Oof…” Lance groans, running his hands through his hair, removing the clips and pins. “We survived.”

“Barely. This culture might be the death of me,” Keith grumbles, searching through the drawers for something more comfortable to sleep in. He’s already tugged the earrings off, releasing his hair from the pins Lance placed, shaking his head as he feels his hair return to its natural place on his neck. 

“Yeah… This is gonna be more work than we thought. I hate to say it, but… we’re gonna have to get used to using couple names, or Meeth’s gonna rat us out,” Lance says, his whole body quaking from how  _ awkward _ he sounds. “And that, by far, is one of the dumbest ways for us to mess up this mission. They’re just words, after all.”

Keith nods, finally finding a plain garment with a regular number of holes to sleep in. He tosses the matching one in Lance’s general direction, before speaking. “Yeah…. We should just start integrating them. I’ll probably still get all flustered and stuff, which should be enough to convince Meeth.”

“I know I’m borrowing trouble, but I wonder how much further the others have gone? Like, we’re already behind on the nicknames. What else have they told Meeth that couples do that we don’t do?” Lance shrugs the dress off and slips the garment Keith tossed to him on, starting a little in surprise when he realizes the neckline dips down to his waist. “Keith… if you wanted to see my abs, all you have to do is ask.”

“What do you me- OH SHIT!” Keith jumps when he sees Lance’s top, immediately dark red. “I-Mine… I didn’t look at yours! Mine isn’t like that! That… I wasn’t… I don’t… I’m… I’m so… Sorry!”

“Relax, it’s fine…” Lance chuckles, going over to the sink and scrubbing intermittently at his face. He had had to leave his skincare products in the Castle, so he is making do. “I’m joking. I know you didn’t mean to. Besides, it’s pretty comfy. You’ve got good taste in pjs.” Sufficiently clean, Lance prepares his toothbrush.

“Oh,” Keith mumbles, anxiously leaning on the wall of the bed. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, no harm done… Are you okay? You seem stressed,” he garbles around a toothbrush.

“It sounds stupid, but I hadn’t really thought about the fact we’d be sleeping together… In… In the same bed, you know?” Keith’s fingers knot themselves together and Lance frowns around his toothbrush. He spits in the sink, his mind racing to find an answer, but coming up with nothing.

“What do you mean?”

“I… I mean…” Keith’s cheeks darken for what seems like the umpteenth time today, but then his eyes darken with frustration and aggression. “I… I don’t feel comfortable sharing a bed with you.”

Lance’s frown grows more severe, but he nods with understanding. He rinses his toothbrush and leans against the sink as he talks. “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight then. We can switch tomorrow. No sweat. Toss me a blanket and a pillow.”

Keith frowns too, a panicked look replacing the frustration. “That’s not what I meant- I mean- I…” He stumbles into silence, clearly struggling to convey a thought that simply won’t translate when he’s talking so fast.

With a shake of his head, Lance moves to stand in front of Keith. He keeps his posture open, his hands loose and arms uncrossed. “Slow down and try again. I’m listening. I’m not going to get mad or laugh at you. I promise.”

“I… It’s not you. I… don’t want you to sleep on the floor? That’s… That’s not why I’m… uncomfortable, I guess. I… get really bad nightmares. Sometimes I hit or kick… But… it sounds… sounds so childish... I… I have a hard time talking about it.” Keith swallows audibly, and won’t meet Lance’s eyes. “I get frustrated and then angry, so fast… I’m bad at controlling my tongue.”

“Keith, it’s okay. Half the shit that comes out of my mouth is unintentional. You’re just fine. Besides, I’m a really deep sleeper. Chances are, you could dump a bucket of cold water on my head and I wouldn’t wake up.”

Keith releases a long breath, his posture calming incrementally. “Really?”

“Really. Besides, the bed’s not that small. It’ll be fine.”

A deep breath and a hesitant nod. “Yeah.”

“Even if you do wake me up, it’s fine. I’m not going to get upset or anything. I’ll just give you more space and go back to sleep.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to use the bathroom? I’m going to crawl into bed and go to sleep, so feel free to do whatever you have to. I’m not going to be looking at anything but the inside of my eyelids for the foreseeable future.” Lance crawls into the bed, tucking himself into the corner closest to the room’s wall. 

“Yeah… Thanks, Lance.”

“For sure. See you in the morning, alright?”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

Lance hears the sounds of a shower turning on, but soon drifts off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares and cuddles :D

_ He can’t believe how vivid his dreams are. His dreams are never so bright, so real. He’s playing on a beach with his family, everything is so surreal and though it appears to be in slow motion, he can see his mam _ _ á and his papá, dancing and laughing together.  _

_ Then, his little nephew beckons him toward a house, and Lance follows him, not entirely in control of his feet. He opens the door and shuts it behind him, and his nephew is nowhere to be found.  _

_ He doesn’t recognize this house at all. _

_ He knows that the only things that can show up in his dreams are things he’s seen, people he knows and places he’s been. He knows instinctively he’s  _ never _ been in this house, and as he looks around, he realizes there’s so much detail in this one room. There’s a specific picture he’s never seen anything quite like hanging in a cute little frame on one wall, a window on the far wall, and a closet on the wall to his immediate left. From the window, it looks like he’s on the second floor. The carpet, red and flat, is worn beneath his feet and he turns as he hears tiny footsteps racing toward the door.  _

_ The door opens and a tiny child enters the room. The kid quietly shuts the door behind him and Lance gets a glimpse of the kid’s face. _

_ “ _ Keith?” _ Lance gasps, recognizing his friend immediately. The dark hair, the subtle mullet, and those purple eyes he’d recognize anywhere. _

_ The kid looks him in the eyes, terrified, then dashes past him to duck into the closet. Lance watches him hide, concerned as bigger, louder footsteps come toward the door. He’s getting a crooked picture of Keith’s childhood. This is too detailed to be a mind amalgamation, too pristine to be anything short of a memory.  _

_ The man that comes in the room is drunk and angry. He’s huge, bigger than any man has any right to be, and Lance can  _ feel _ how bad he smells. Like booze and sweat and vomit and rotten eggs. This man is the closest thing he can imagine to a devil, and he’s calling Keith’s name. _

_ Lance watches in horror as the man staggers over to the closet, pulling Keith out by the back of his neck, fingers tangled in the dark hair. Lance doesn’t know what the man says, but can feel the shame and pain in Keith’s gut. No child should ever feel like that. _

_ The man’s other hand clasps around Keith’s throat and Lance squares his shoulders. This man may be a devil, but that’s no excuse for him to stand off to the side and do nothing to stop him. _

_ With the confidence of someone who has a clue of how to fight devils, he kicks the man squarely in the crotch from behind, seeing him falter and Child-Keith drops from his hands onto the floor, where he gasps for breath. There’s bruises on his neck and his body trembles as it fights for air.  _

No wonder Keith doesn’t like having arms around his neck _ , Lance understands suddenly as the devil turns on him. _

Like he’s been dunked in cold water, Lance sits straight up, breathing heavily. He jumps as he realizes Keith is huddled as far away from him on the bed as he can, and in the dim light, he can make out the tears on his cheeks. Keith looks the most disheveled Lance has ever seen him, his hair a disaster and his hands lightly wrapped around his throat.

“Did… Did you see that? Was… Was that you?” he gasps, like he hasn’t had access to oxygen in several minutes. His purple eyes are wide and unblinking.

“Uhh…” Lance shivers, unsettled. “I… I don’t know? What do you mean?”

“Were… you there?” Keith whispers. “Like… with me? Did… you see that?”

“I think so…” Lance isn’t sure what to expect of Keith, isn’t sure what to make of this. Keith is clearly shaken, more so than Lance is, but he has no idea what just happened. What’s problematic about this isn’t that Keith seems to think Lance, as in the real Lance, was in his dream. The problem comes in the simple truth Lance finds himself agreeing with that assessment. Which suggests that he really did visit Keith’s mind for a few hours and found a horrifying truth buried inside.

Keith looks positively mortified, spellbound by terror and embarrassment and trauma. He’s staring off into space, slack jawed and panting. Lance doesn’t have the slightest clue how to help. “I’m sorry, Keith.”

He glances at Lance, but says nothing.

“Do you have nightmares like that a lot?”

Keith shivers.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, okay?” Keith is still silent, his eyes focused on the wall. “Keith?”

Keith’s head tilts slightly toward him.

“Do you want to cuddle? Or a hug? My siblings and I always cuddled when we had nightmares… It kinda made us feel a little better… If you want to… If you don’t, that’s okay too… I’m not going to get offended...”

Keith doesn’t say a word, but crawls over to Lance, waiting. Because of the taco-like nature of the bed, there’s no comfortable way they can lay side by side, so Lance lays down on his back, gently guiding Keith to lay down on top of him. Keith’s head rests on Lance’s chest, Lance’s hands coming to rest on his waist and back. Keith’s arms wrap around Lance’s waist tightly. For a long moment, they lay in silence.

“Is this okay?” Lance whispers, fingers tracing soft circles into Keith’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Thanks, Lance.”

“No problem.”

They fall asleep again, but this time the dark is dreamless and they sleep soundly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith awaken with their limbs tangled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS I'M ON TIME THIS IS SO EXCITING

Lance wakes to the knock on the door the next morning. Keith is slow to wake, but Lance is immediately struggling to breathe, his cheeks dark red.

Keith had shimmied up during the night, his nose now pressed up under Lance’s jaw, warm lips and breath lightly caressing Lance’s skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Keith’s right hand lays lightly against his Lance’s chest, his other arm trapped under him. Their legs had become quite tangled. Though it isn’t too different from how they fell asleep last night, Lance can’t help but feel like this is more intimate. Maybe it’s because his hand is in Keith’s hair, or how his thumb is hooked in the waist of Keith’s pants.

He moves to pull his body out from under Keith to answer the door, tugging his hand free of the dark locks, and Keith growls lowly. His hands pull Lance closer, holding him more firmly, and his head presses against Lance’s hand. 

“Keith, I’ve got to answer the door,” Lance whispers gently, feeling the blush creep down his neck and up his ears. He’s more than a little panicked when another knock echoes through the room. “We’ve got to get up.” Keith grumbles, practically purring as Lance tries tracing soft circles into his scalp in attempts to coax him awake. “Keith, please… We’re up and getting ready!” He calls out louder, hoping whoever’s knocking can hear and will leave.

Much to his dismay, Reeza walks in a moment later. “Good morning, Blue Paladin!” Reeza greets with pep and a smile. “It is time for you to start preparing for breakfast! It is a semi-formal occasion, as breakfast has religious significance in our culture, so please dress accordingly. Breakfast begins in one varga.”

Lance doesn’t think his face can get any hotter, and Keith still hasn’t quite stirred, though his purple eyes are weakly starting to open. Lance tries to prop himself up more again, and Keith growls even louder. “Th-Thanks, Reeza,” Lance stumbles, his body trembling. “We’ll be in the dining hall in a varga.”

“Lance?” Keith mumbles,  _ still _ mostly asleep. Lance wants to cry because, on one hand, Keith is going to be so pissed when he finally comes to his senses and Lance is already so embarrassed and it’s only going to get worse from here and he’s going to ruin everything, but on the other hand,  _ Keith looks so absolutely adorable and precious _ that Lance can’t even breathe. He’s seen puppies that aren’t as cute as Keith is right now, and that’s saying something.

“Good morning, Red Paladin!” Reeza greets in turn, eyes shining. “I am glad to observe that you have slept well!”

Keith groans, but pulls his arms free of Lance and rubs his eyes, only rolling enough to do so. His legs don’t move, and Lance feels as though he might explode in the next two ticks if he doesn’t get out of this bed. “What time is it?” Keith moans.

“Morning!” Reeza chirps cheerfully, briefly making that rattling sound. “One varga before breakfast.”

“Okay, thank you, Reeza,” Keith mumbles, nuzzling Lance’s neck as he settles back in. Reeza looks to Lance to ensure they would, in fact, make it to breakfast, then leaves. 

“Keith,” Lance blurts, his entire being on fire. He can’t sit still, even if he tries. He needs to  _ move.  _ “I need to shower!” Really, all he needs is space so he can stop thinking about Keith for one damn tick, but moving and showering would certainly help that.

“No… You smell good…” Keith sighs sleepily.

“Keith!” Lance yelps helplessly, not wanting to push him off but also brutally aware of how awkward this will be to talk about in any capacity later. “Keith, focus.”

He growls, pulling Lance even closer.

“Do you know who you’re laying on?”

Keith stiffens. 

“I’ll give you a hint, you don’t like me at all. I’m immature and impulsive and repulsive and flirty and gangly and have bad timing and you hate me-”

“Shit!” Keith gasps as he finally springs from Lance. “Reeza just-”

“Exactly,” Lance sighs, the loneliness hitting him almost as hard as the embarrassment and disappointment. “I tried-”

“Reeza just saw us- saw you and me- saw… saw us...”

Lance doesn’t say a word, his eyes looking anywhere but at Keith. “I tried to move you, but you wouldn’t wake up. I’m sorry.” He waits for an answer, for anything, but Keith, his face almost as red as Lance’s, simply sits gaping. 

His face still burning, Lance crawls over the edge of the bed, intent on taking a shower. He hasn’t figured out quite  _ how _ yet, but he needs something else to think about -  _ anything _ else to think about.”

“I don’t think you’re repulsive,” Keith murmurs suddenly, and they make steady eye contact.

Lance practically chokes. “What?”

“You said I think you’re repulsive. And that I don’t like you. That I hate you. All of those things are false. I do like you… You know, as a friend. I don’t think you’re repulsive. You’re… You’re just not.” Even though his cheeks are redder than his lion, his words are fairly steady.

“Really?” He can’t stop the question from popping out of his mouth. He cannot  _ believe _ that Keith  _ likes  _ him, even if it’s just as a friend. He thought Keith hated him. And Keith doesn’t find him repulsive? Really?

“Of course,” Keith practically whispers. “You… You’re you. How could I hate you? How could I find you repulsive?”

Lance feels anxiety roll off his shoulders. His cheeks are still burning, his hands still trembling, his eyes still burning with unshed tears, but he’s… happy. He smiles, an awkward chuckle making its way out of him. “Thanks, Keith.”

“I’m sorry about this morning, Lance. I… I can see it made you uncomfortable. I’m… I’m not used to… I’m… I’m sorry.” Lance senses there was something more to that sentence that Keith didn’t say, but doesn’t want to push it.

“I was really more worried about a repeat of yesterday,” Lance giggles, so unsure and scared that all he can do is laugh. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. I know you’re super sensitive to things like that.” He doesn’t mention that he now has a good idea of  _ why _ Keith’s so sensitive to physical contact, but the thought does stay long enough in his mind to make him a little nauseous. 

“So you weren’t uncomfortable?” Keith asks awkwardly. Curiously. Pryingly.

Lance blushes darker. “Not really?… I… I like cuddling… It makes me feel safe.”

“Me too,” Keith says, and Lance’s heart skips ten beats right in a row.

The silence is thick and could be sliced with a dull butter knife. 

_ Change the subject!!! _ , Lance’s mind screams at him. So, with all the tact and charisma he is known to have, he blurts, “Was your nightmare a memory or a dream?”

Keith pales, freezing. Lance watches his chest rise and fall rapidly, watching pale fingers come up and explore the skin of his equally pale neck. “Memory,” he whispers, voice unsteady. Lance can’t even begin to imagine how to respond.

_ CHANGE THE SUBJECT AWAY FROM KEITH!!! _ , Lance’s mind screams even louder than before, and Lance wholeheartedly agrees. “I’m going to shower.”

“Okay,” Keith mumbles.

“I’m going to be naked.”

“I’m going to bury my head in the pillow and try to sleep some more.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Keith does exactly as he described, and Lance meanders over to the shower, slowly undressing, with a cautious glance back at Keith every couple ticks. 

He steps under the powerful stream of water, vaguely impressed at how quickly it gets hot and lets the water pound against his back. He still feels exposed, but at least the water blankets him in warmth.

He hates the vibe in the room with all his being, but he has no idea how to change it. Weakness isn’t a look often seen on Keith, and Lance can’t figure out how to communicate his gratitude that Keith trusts him this much without sounding too excited that Keith’s feeling weak and vulnerable in the first place. Also, did Keith say he liked cuddling? Keith was a cuddlebug? What?! He was so comfy sleeping with Lance he didn’t want to wake up and wanted to keep Lance with him? WHAT?!

Lance thinks briefly he might be in over his head. He decides he definitely is.

He washes his hair, his body, his face, then shuts the water off. He dries his torso, then wraps a towel around his waist. “I’m mostly decent, Keith.”

Keith groans as he sits up. “How’s the water pressure?”

Lance wishes that would break the tension in the room, but it does nothing but make it worse. “It’s really good. I… I just want to say… I’m sorry I’m so bad at… like… talking. I really appreciate your trust in me and I can promise you it won’t be misplaced. I’m really sorry about your childhood, because you deserved better.”

Keith’s head tilts to one side like a dog’s. “Thanks, Lance. You’re fine.”

“You… You can… you know, shower. I’m gonna get dressed and stuff, but I won’t look over. I promise.”

Keith nods, sliding out of bed. “How long til breakfast?”

“I have no idea. Soonish? You might want to hurry, or Reeza might get an even more intimate image of you.”

Keith flushes, darting toward the shower. Lance turns and begins to dress, decidedly  _ not  _ thinking about how very not clothed Keith is.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The paladins receive some... unfortunate news. ;)
> 
> Happy Halloween! Have another chapter as a treat! :D

At breakfast, they talk business only. There’s talk of treaties, war, and how the two groups can benefit one another after the war. Keith and Lance have their hands comfortably linked the entire time.

Lance almost snorts at the concept of “after the war”. He’d come to accept that this would probably be how he’d die. Voltron, Zarkon, guns and bombs and fire and space, the whole lot of it. Now, he’s not intending to go lying down, by any means. He’s a fighter, always has been, and would die in a second for any of the paladins, would die for any of the people they’ve come to protect too. But this seems like an endgame, like there’s nothing good that can possibly come after this, with all they’ve said and done. There were days in his childhood he wasn’t sure he’d ever make it this far. He’s done what he set out to do. When word of the war makes its way back to earth, his family would be proud of him. That was enough.

Keith nudges his arm subtly, and Lance looks at him. Keith gives him a confused, concerned smile, and a slight inclination of his head. Lance smiles and shakes his head.

“I think we would all benefit from a reprieve. We will regroup and discuss more later,” Meeth stands suddenly, looking at Reeza for a long moment. “My lovely Reeza says the weather is lovely this morning if you would like to explore. There will be people around if you should have any questions. There’s also another melee this morning if you’d like to participate. The warriors need training with fighters like you.”

“We can explore now, if you want?” Keith whispers, and Lance nods eagerly.

“Sure thing, babe.” Like expected, Keith goes bright red, but they stand anyway.

With a glance toward Shiro, they wander toward the front doors.

The wind picks up as they clear the walls of the castle, and both look up at the swirling clouds above their heads. It looks nothing like the sky on earth, the clouds lime green and orange, but they still know what’s coming.

“Maybe it’s for the best we’re exploring now,” Keith murmurs. “That looks like it’s gonna be a nasty storm.”

“I wonder what storms look like on this planet. It’d… It’d be really nice to see rain again,” Lance replies, his eyes watching the skies longingly. “I’ve been really missing the rain lately.”

“Me too.” Keith knocks his shoulder into Lance’s. “At least the end is in sight, right? We’re so close. We’ll get home again. Our allies are getting more and more powerful, and soon it’ll be an even playing field against Zarkon.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The walk in silence for a while, Lance pulling them toward a field of flowers. They look like daisies and komodo dragons had babies, scaly and petally and beautiful. Both paladins are instantly in love. 

“These are the coolest flowers I’ve ever seen!” Keith exclaims, unlinking from Lance for the first time since they left their room, crouching down to smell the lizardy-flowers. 

Then he sneezes hard enough to propel him backwards and he lands on his ass. Lance laughs so hard, tears stream from his eyes. Keith crosses his arms and pouts, his anger completely phony. He loves Lance’s laugh too much to really get angry about anything.

“I’ve never heard you sneeze before!” Lance cackles, trying to wipe his eyes. “You sneeze like a chicken!”

Keith narrows his eyes. “What?”

“Have you ever heard a chicken sneeze?”

“No, why would I have?”

“Oh, you don’t have to now! You sound just like it!” Lance breaks into heavy laughter again. “And it’s because you’re allergic to lizard-flowers! Which is even more ridiculous!”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “It could just be coincidence.”

“Sniff it again, then.” Lance finally starts to compose himself, but bursts out giggling again as Keith shakes his head stubbornly.

“Besides, there  _ has _ to be something ridiculous you’re allergic to, too,” Keith prods, standing up and dusting off his rear. “If you say no, I’ll know for a fact you’re lying.”

“What is allergic?” Reeza asks, coming up from behind them.

“It just means that if some part of a plant or food makes contact with us, we have a physical reaction of some assortment. Some allergic reactions are really small and mostly just inconvenient, some are really bad and can kill. Just depends on the person and the allergy,” Keith explains.

“Keith’s allergic to these flowers here, for example. They make him chicken-sneeze,” Lance snickers cheekily, and Keith half-heartedly shoves him, a tired smile on his cheeks. 

“Chicken-sneeze?” Reeza frowns at the term.

Lance winks at her, then shoves Keith so he falls in between the flowers. It takes less than two tics for him to start sneezing again, and Lance falls over laughing. 

“This is not hurting him?”

“No! Crow, no! Not physically, anyways. His pride is probably taking a blow, but he’ll be okay,” Lance grins and helps Keith up. He winks at Reeza, nudging Keith, who has since returned to his place at Lance’s side. “Honestly, he’s loving the attention. I mean, look at him blush! Now he’s gonna get all shy and clingy! He’s so cute.”

Keith flushes darkly, doing exactly as Lance said, his fingers lacing themselves with Lance’s subconsciously. Reeza laughs. “Truly, he does become embarrassed easily!” They twitter, eyes sparkling.

“You should see Lance get flustered,” Keith grumbles, not meeting Reeza’s or Lance’s gaze. “Now  _ that’s _ funny. Did he ever tell you about that one time he got handcuffed to a tree and had to call me for help?”

“He did not tell me,” Reeza says politely, affection in their eyes. “I must tell you, I find you both to be very charming and friendly. You are very pleasant and enjoyable to talk to.”

Lance blushes lightly, an excited smile lighting his face. It’s not often someone explicitly tells him they like talking to him. “Really?”

“Yes! Though that is not the reason I join you now. I have come to tell you that there is an unexpected storm moving in and it would be best for your continued existences if you were to come inside. There are plenty of activities readily available to you inside.”  
“Alright,” Lance says with a glance at Keith for confirmation. “We’ll be right in. Thank you, Reeza.”

Reeza leaves them, and Lance turns cheekily to Keith. “How’s the allergies, cutie-pie?”

Keith flushes and groans. “Why do I have an allergy to the coolest flowers in the universe?”

“I wouldn’t know. At least it’s a funny allergy and not a serious one. It may get annoying after a while, but you can still be around the flowers without worrying for your life and stuff. I’m half tempted to grow some just so I can laugh at you every time you sneeze.”

Keith groans louder, shoving Lance half-heartedly as they meander back toward the castle. What sounds like thunder rumbles in the distance, and Lance smiles. “I never realized how much I missed that sound. Crow, I love storms…”

“I really love snow,” Keith says softly, not looking at Lance. “It sounds strange since I lived in Texas for so long, but I love the snow. Everything about it… It’s so amazing, you know? What it can do. What it can stop. How it makes everything around it quiet.”

“Weather is so cool. I definitely took it for granted on earth. So many of these planets don’t have weather cycles anything like earth, and it’s kinda sad. Like, earth weather is so wild and variant and so many beings will never experience it. Or they’ll hear about it and be too scared to see it for themselves. Like yeah, it can be kinda terrifying, but it’s so awe-inspiring too.”

“For sure,” Keith agrees, slipping his hand inside of Lance’s. “Hey, Lance?”

“Hm?”

“You’re the only person who has ever really made me nostalgic for earth. The way you describe it… I dunno… It makes it seem new and good and worthwhile. I… I appreciate your perspective. It wasn’t a great home for me, but you make it seem warmer… better.”

Lance blinks, his cheeks flushing. “Really?”

“Really.”

At lunch, they share food from the same plate. It’s a traditional Guton partner meal, meant to be shared and eaten between partners. Everything is going just fine when Emperor Meeth speaks up.

“I regret to inform you, paladins, but I have both good and bad news for you. The bad news is that there is a storm coming and for the good of yourselves and your lions, you might have to delay your departure. For good news, you may still be here for our yearly festival! There will be dancing and music and food of all varieties!”

Shiro nods and asks what they’re all thinking. “How long will our departure be delayed?”

“Anywhere from a movement to a phoeb,” Emperor Meeth shrugs helplessly. “Though the duration of most is a phoeb. I am most sorry for the inconvenience, but there is no way to control the weather and storms here are not to be unestimated or trifled with. The snores of God are tremendous and powerful.”

Allura chokes on the drink she was sipping from, her eyes going wide. “A movement to a phoeb?” She repeats, setting her glass down. “Surely, there’s a method for departure. We’d truly hate to overstay our welcome.”

“None that would encompass the Black Lion. We have envoys that could maybe navigate well enough to allow  _ you _ to escape the upper atmosphere, but the Black Lion would have to remain on the planet till the storm ceased.”

Lance and Keith are stunned into silence, simultaneously grabbing the others’ hand and squeezing tightly. What started as a weekend where they had to anxiously pretend to be lovers had quickly turned into a considerable chunk of time to fake-date someone and neither are sure what to think or say.

“Is the festival formal?” Pidge asks, looking a little surprized, but mostly neutral. She knows the rest of the team is panicking and someone has to play calm and collected.

“Yes! Very! It is the singular most anticipated gathering of the decaphoeb and you will all be invited! I have no doubt in my mind that you will greatly enjoy it!”

“We’re looking forward to it!” Shiro says, looking a little nauseous but fortunately not sounding like it. “It sounds like quite the spectacle.”

“Oh, it most definitely is! Though, some of the splendor will be lost with the storm, there will undoubtedly be magnificence to be witnessed! And, with your extended stay, you will have plenty of opportunities to learn more about our culture, and us about yours! Perhaps we will also extend an invitation to some of the other subcultures around the planet and you can really get a feel for our world’s connection.”

“That sounds awesome!” Hunk smiles, only half-noticing the way Pidge squeaks as he squeezes her hand. 

“I hate to be a bother, but I’m not feeling too well,” Lance murmurs, standing abruptly. “I’m going to retire to our room for a while, if it’s not too much trouble, Emperor.”

Meeth frowns in concern, nodding his consent. “Please, take all the time you need. I do hope healing will come swiftly.”

Lance squeezes Keith’s hand once before he releases it and wanders away. Keith’s gaze follows him for a few steps, before Keith turns to Meeth. “I’m going with him. He doesn’t look too healthy and it can’t hurt having another set of hands nearby to help.”

Meeth nods again, and the remaining paladins share a glance, silently vowing to visit them later, once they had had some time alone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has a bit of break down but Keith is still there.

Lance paces up and down the room, filled with an emotion he can’t name. He’s so worried,  _ crow _ , he’s worried, but that’s not it. He’s angry too, already annoyed at the universe for taunting him with a weekend with his crush, and now it’s going to be the earth equivalent of a month? How was  _ that _ fair?

And a formal festival where they’d be expected to dance? It simply isn’t fair. Of course Lance wants to dance with Keith, just like he wanted to hold hands and trade pet names and flirt and share a bed, but he wants it to be real, more than anything in the world. Having Keith as a boyfriend would be a dream come true.

And it isn’t real, he has to keep telling himself. It’s fake. It’s all a deception, an act. Keith would never be his, especially after this mission.

Tears well in his eyes. As it sinks in, deeper and deeper, the truth burns in his throat and tears at his heart. He likes Keith  _ so much,  _ so much that he doesn’t flirt too aggressively and he does all he can to be whatever Keith needs him to be and tries to hide how much he loves every part of him fiercely, and the universe pulls this shit, taunting him, teasing him, forcing him to acknowledge all these things he can never have, holding it out in front of his nose like a carrot and yanking it away as soon as his mind slips, only to dangle the lure in front of him again once he remembers. It’s a cruel game and it will only end with his heart broken, his dreams crushed, and him alone.

Keith likes him as a friend. And a friend would have been just fine, would have been fine for as long as Lance lived, if he hadn’t gotten a glimpse of what they could be together. Of how Keith liked to be flirted with, of what he looked like when he cuddled, how his hand felt like linked with his own. If he hadn’t known these things, it might never have really hurt. But he’s been in Keith’s dreams, slept in his bed, held his hand, showered while he was in the room. There’s intimacy there, affection and passion. Happiness and safety, too. And it’s breaking his heart, because he knows every day that passes only gets him closer to never feeling quite like this ever again.

“Lance?” Lance freezes, his back to the door, as Keith’s soft rasp pierces the quiet of the room. “Lance, are you alright?”

“No,” Lance growls, his voice breaking. “I’m sick. Go away.”

“Lance, what’s wrong?” Lance hears him come up behind him, but Keith doesn’t touch him. Which, he supposes, is a good thing, because if Keith touched him, there’d be no stopping the sobs from escaping his chest.

“I’m sick,” he lies again, wiping his cheeks free of tears. “I’m contagious. Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.” Keith crosses his arms stubbornly, but it’s the wrong thing to say. Not that there’s a right thing to say, but that is definitely not it.

Lance spins on him so fast, Keith actually flinches. “I’m.  _ Sick _ ,” he tries to snarl, but his voice cracks and ruins the acerbity of it. “ _ Leave _ , Keith. I don’t need you. I don’t want you here…”

Keith’s eyes widen and he reaches out to touch him. Lance jerks away. “Lance…”

“Leave. Me.  _ Alone _ .” A sob escapes, a horrible noise leaving him with a shaky sigh. “Keith… Please… Go! You make it worse! Crow, you make everything so much worse!”

Keith’s face falls and Lance’s heart breaks all the further as more sobs escape and he can’t even see because of the tears and it feels like his chest is tearing itself in half as he falls to his knees, and worst of all, Keith  _ catches him _ , cradling him as together they collapse on the floor. He wants to get away from Keith, escape this guilt and anger and affection and frustration, but his muscles won’t work and he’s crying too hard to make them. Keith’s arms hold him firmly and gently all at once, a constant reminder.

“Hey, it’s okay… You’re not alone, Lance… It’s okay… Get it all out, alright? You’re okay… You’re safe… It’s okay… Lance… shh… It’s alright...”

Lance can’t even form words with how hard he’s sobbing. He can’t do this - not for another day, much less another month. He simply can’t. He can’t take it - can’t take any of it. He cries for a long time, before exhaustion and emptiness take the pain’s place. 

“Lance?” Keith murmurs softly, fingers gently threading through his hair. “Can you talk to me now? Please? I… I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

Lance shudders with hiccups, his heart pounding. “I’m sorry…”

“For what?”

“Yelling at you… You didn’t deserve that.” Lance’s head, from where it rests on Keith’s lap, nuzzles closer, almost like he’s trying to escape the embarrassment of apologizing.

Keith seems genuinely surprised. “That… That’s not what- I didn’t… It’s already forgotten. I… I want to know what made you cry to begin with, and I just… that was really scary for me. I have never seen you so upset…”

“I… I can’t...” Lance whispers finally. “I… I can’t… Not right now...”

“Okay,” Keith breathes, seemingly resigning himself to not knowing. “What can I do to help you now?”

Lance shudders with a sigh of relief. “Would you be upset if I said I wanted to talk to Hunk?”

A low chuckle rumbles through Keith. “No, as long as you actually talk to him, I won’t be upset at all. I just want you to talk about it with  _ someone _ . If I was in your shoes, I’d want Hunk too. He’s really good at this kind of stuff.”

Another sigh of relief. “Thanks, Keith.”

“No problem. I’m going to go find him, alright? Someone’ll be back in just a tick.” Keith carefully untangles himself from Lance, offering a wave as he leaves.

Lance sits on the floor and waits for a long moment, before slowly climbing to his feet. Almost in a daze, he goes to the sink and washes his face. His eyes are red and puffy and he’s still hiccuping every couple ticks. Hunk’s going to read him like an open book and probably will make him cry even more.

But he’s the one person Lance trusts with this, the one person that might understand and certainly won’t judge him.

There’s a knock on the door. “Hey, Lance? You in there? It’s Hunk. Keith said you wanted to talk to me?”

Lance sighs in relief. “Come in, Hunk.”

Hunk takes one look at him and like Lance predicted, seems to immediately understand. “Oh, buddy,” he murmurs sympathetically. “What happened?”

“I…” Lance chuckles a little. “I had an emotional breakdown right in front of Keith.”

“Oh,  _ buddy _ ,” Hunk chuckles in return, coming over to give Lance a big hug. “Was it because of the delay?”

“A little. I’m also… just… angry, you know?” Lance explains weakly, embarrassed to put words to his thoughts.

“Angry that Keith is completely unaware of how hard you’re crushing on him and how painful it is for you to be his fake boyfriend for a weekend, much less a month and how all the things you have to do together here are exactly what you wanted to do with him without the prerequisite of it being a mission?”

Lance almost begins crying again. “ _ Exactly _ ,” he gasps in relief.

“Yeah, I was wondering how long you’d make it without combusting. I doubt I’d have made it as long as you did, to your credit. I was trying to figure out what Allura could have possibly been thinking, but she didn’t have a lot of other good options, I guess. You guys work impressively well together, after all.” Hunk takes a seat next to him on the floor, his smile warm and compassionate. “Did… Did you tell him?”

Lance shakes his head. “I’m not that dumb.”

Hunk grins. “I know. But sometimes you make decisions that can be interpreted as dumb. Or brilliant, depending on how the decision turns out.”

“I didn’t tell him… But I kind of wanted to? I think he thinks it’s his fault,” he murmurs remorsefully. “I don’t want him to feel guilty. He was really worried about me.”

“It  _ is _ his fault.” Hunk’s tone is unapologetic and almost harsh, considering the soft tone that Hunk usually speaks in. “He’s the reason you had an emotional breakdown.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t because he’s being a douche. At least not in the traditional sense. It’s fate and stupid, shitty luck that I get paired with my unrequited crush but I can’t do anything about it, you know? That’s not his fault.”

“Even a blind man could see how hard you’re crushing on him, Lance. He’s either an idiot or he’s purposely ignoring the signs.”

Lance shivers and his cheeks flush. “Is it that obvious?”

Hunk shrugs. “Maybe just to me, since I know you so well, but it’s not invisible.”

“Well, Keith is definitely an idiot,” Lance giggles ruefully. “No two ways about that. He very well might be simply ignoring my crush on him, but it doesn’t help that he’s definitely an idiot.”

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said today.”

“Thanks, Hunk,” Lance smiles, more relaxed than he had been since they got here. “You’re really good at this.”

Hunk chuckles, a rumbling, lovely sound, his eyes twinkling. “At what? Understanding you?”

Lance nods. “Do you think I should tell him?”

“That you’re crushing on him? Or that his existence is the entire reason you had an emotional breakdown?”

“That I’m crushing on him!”

Hunk thinks long and hard about what he knows about Keith. “I’d say wait until this mission is over. I know that’s gonna be a while, but Keith… he’s an introvert. He likes to think things through in private. Maybe he’s gonna immediately admit to feelings for you and everything will be fine and dandy, but if not, it’d be kind of a dick move to force him to proceed to spend the rest of the day, even week right next to you. It’d be really awkward.”

“Okay…” Lance thinks and comes to the same conclusion. “Thanks, Hunk.”

“No problem. Now, I’d best get going. Leaving Pidge alone for any length of time here is a huge risk. Did she tell you that she completely wrecked the entire race of Guto to the Emperor’s face?”

Lance giggles. “Was this during the melee?”

“It was indeed. Could you guys hear my blood pressure rise or something?”

“No, when we finished, we looked up at you guys and everyone was staring slack jawed at Pidge, so we figured something had happened, but we weren’t sure what and there wasn’t really a good time to ask.”

“Yeah… I was sure we were going to be publicly executed… She really just dragged them… It was so satisfying, because she didn’t lie or exaggerate even once and just absolutely ruined him. And didn’t stop, despite all of us separately warning her to stop. Then the  _ Emperor  _ apologized to _ her _ . It was so uncomfortable, but  _ so good _ . It was nice to be validated for once, you know? Like we’ve got a helluva burden on our shoulders and no one flipping acknowledges it! It’s kind of a relief to not be the only one thinking it, you know?”

“Pidge never did have much regard for royalty… And yeah, I get it.” Lance’s voice is soft and warm, full of affection and honesty.

“She’s such a firecracker,” Hunk murmurs with warm and affectionate. “She’s so smart and she doesn’t let anyone talk down to her. It’s inspiring.”

Lance does a double take. “You’ve got a crush on Pidge.” He meant it as a question, he really did, but once the thought arrives, there’s no doubt in his mind and all thoughts of courtesy are gone.

Hunk flushes darkly. “I guess.”

“THAT’S ADORABLE, HUNK!” Lance yells, embracing Hunk tightly.

“You won’t tell anyone, right?” Hunk is wringing his hands in anxiety now, flustered and unsure. “Pidge doesn’t know yet… I wanna take my own advice and wait… and I’m not sure she likes me back…”

Lance frowns immediately. “Of course, Hunk. Not a peep. Not my secret to tell.” He mimes locking his lips shut and throwing away the key. There is very little in this universe he wouldn’t do for Hunk. The man is a blessing he isn’t about to treat lightly.

Hunk smiles. “I’m going to leave now, before you come up with some masterplan to fix our love lives.”

“Thanks again, Hunk. Can you send Keith back in here?” Lance stays on the floor, staring up at Hunk.

“Yeah. Do you have a plan?”

“I’ve got a part of a plan.”

“Close enough, I guess, huh?” Hunk walks out. 

A few dobashes later, Keith quietly opens the door and walks in. He looks at Lance and seems instantly relieved. “You look much better.”

“Don’t I always look good?” Lance fires back immediately, hoping to just ignore the whole mental breakdown thing entirely. Keith does not follow Lance’s script, however.

Keith smiles, raising his eyebrows. “Not that I don’t appreciate your expert redirection, but you just had a mental breakdown in my lap. I think we need to discuss that first, then we can talk about the quality of your looks.”

Lance winces. “Sorry. I… I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t have a lot of control over myself…”

“So I saw,” Keith says gently, coming to sit down on the edge of the bed, near Lance. “I’m sorry too.”

“What for?”

“You told me to go and I didn’t.”

“No… you did the right thing. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave me alone.” Lance shrugs. “I… I guess it was just the extension of our trip. I’m really worried about messing this up. I could kind of deal with the long weekend, but a month? I’m terrified that I’ll slip up and mess everything up.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. Saying it though is enough to lift a little weight from Lance’s chest.

“I get it,” Keith sighs, shyly meeting Lance’s eyes.

“And…” Lance hesitates, knowing what he’s about to say is far closer to the truth, and therefore much riskier. Keith doesn’t move, and Lance takes a deep breath. “And I’m afraid that if you’re forced to spend that much time with me that you’ll hate me. I really… I really like being your friend, Keith, and it would kill me to have this dumbass mission change that.”

Keith’s face falls into one of concern. “I’ll let you know if I start hating you, Lance. Chances are, it won’t happen. I might get a little pissy sometimes, but you’re one of the few people here who can get me out of my bad moods. Trust me, alright? Our friendship is safe. You won’t mess it up.”

Lance chuckles weakly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I suppose I should go back out there with you and schmooze up the Emperor so he doesn’t get suspicious about my rapid healing.”

“I’ll go with you. I was… kind of really worried about you, so seeing us together and happy should be good for our image. Apparently they like us, so we should probably be careful not to goof that up either.”

“Maybe you can go assure Shiro and Allura I’m fine? I’m sure they’ll dial up the Mother Hen™ instinct to eleven, if no one stops them first.”

Keith chuckles. “Shiro definitely will if Allura doesn’t. He’s always been like that.”

“Let’s go, boyfriend of mine,” Lance smiles, holding his hand out for Keith. “Face the world and all that bullshit.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I'M SO LATE
> 
> You guys get two extra chapters because I am /three/ days late... It's just been so busy!!!

They wander back into the meal hall, and the Gutos are starting to divide into afternoon activities. The Emperor welcomes the pair back, sharing that all of the paladins are encouraged to attend dance lessons this afternoon. As the paladins would now be attending their festival, where there would be lots of dancing, they would need to know how to dance in cohesion with the Gutos.

Lance and Keith both blanch, subconsciously scooching closer together. “Oh boy,” Keith mutters, just loud enough for Lance to hear.

“Can you dance?” Lance whispers.

“Nope. You?”

“Kinda?” Lance frowns, his eyes not leaving the Emperor. “I used to take lessons.”

“Well, shit,” Keith swears, chuckling nervously. “I’m gonna look ridiculous. Shiro is a good dancer, Allura can dance… I guess I don’t know about Hunk and Pidge…”

“You’ll be fine. You can’t be as bad as Pidge. We were playing a game where you move according to the beat, and for the life of her, she couldn’t get it.”

Keith eyes Lance, nudging him gently. “I might be worse.”

“Impossible!” Lance grins, but it weakens as he realizes Keith isn’t laughing. “That  _ was _ a joke, right?”

Keith winces, but says nothing.

“Oh boy,” Lance sighs.

Emperor Meeth leads the small group to a smaller dance hall, walls of mirrors and high chandeliers. A smaller Guto stands in front of them in what appears to be the Guton version of a speedo. He smiles at the paladins.

“Hello! My name is Jet! Upon review of your earthen dancing, it would appear our partner dances share many similar elements!” Jett cheers, clapping. His giant ears wiggle with excitement. “However, Guton dancing requires more… more… grabbing? Tighter hold? I am not good at human tongues.”

Lance glances at Keith out of the corner of his eye, preparing to hate both himself and Keith forever and always.

“Gutos do not wear many clothes while dancing, as they mainly grab each others’ hair. You will grab one another’s clothes, as grabbing your hair causes you pain.” Another Guto jumps to Jet’s side. “This is my partner, Root. Observe, friends.”

Music begins to play, an indescribable mixture of every genre of music Lance had ever heard, and all the paladins’ eyebrows find new homes in their hairlines. The Gutos’ dancing is fast, aggressive, and intimate. 

What initially scares Lance most of all is the fact that it doesn’t appear choreographed. Though they move almost in sync, their movements aren’t paired stylistically with the music’s rise and fall. Once he realizes this, he can catch the small movements that could clue the partner into the next move. 

This is far more complex than any unchoreographed human dance, Lance thinks with a gulp. His second thought is this: a formal party is not where you’d find dance moves like these on earth. In fact, a formal party might be the last place one would look for dances like this.

But, the longer he thinks about it, the better he feels. Since it’s not choreographed, he can’t get it wrong. The movements are sudden, but fairly simple and with the aggressive percussion, it’s easy enough to keep time. Knowing that one person is leading the other, knowing the acceptable movements, and the tempo are all he needs. He can do this.

“Attempt to duplicate our actions when you feel confident, friends!” Jett calls, laughing as he is spun and Root shimmies against his back. Lance feels his cheeks heat. He will  _ not _ being doing that to Keith, nor letting Keith do that to him.

Keith leans over to whisper-shout in his ear. Lance can barely hear him over the drums. “I’m going to  _ die _ . I can’t do that!”

Another moment watching the pair of Gutos dancing, and Lance is sure he’s right. “It’s easier than it looks… Watch their feet.”

Keith frowns. To him, it’s a blur of movement and sound and a mesh of bodies. It’s only two Gutos, and he can’t distinguish between them. He can’t separate the movements, can’t see the pauses. “What am I watching for?”

His gaze narrowed in concentration, Lance turns to face Keith. Vaguely, he’s aware of the other paladins starting to shuffle behind him, but his attention is focussed. “Do you know how to slow dance?”

“I guess? I haven’t done it in years.” Keith’s gaze is darting all around the room, his shoulders, which are usually confidently thrown back, are huddled down, his arms wrapped around his torso insecurely. Lance recognizes the look, the growing panic as he gets more and more overwhelmed. He’s anxious too, of course he is, but he stuffs it down for Keith. 

Instead, he gives Keith an encouraging smile. “Focus on me. I think I can teach you, alright? We’re gonna start at the awkward middle school slow dance level, and work our way up to something that looks a little more like that. Does that sound manageable?”

Keith takes a deep breath and nods, turning to face Lance. “Yeah… okay.”

Lance takes Keith’s hands and puts them on the lapel-like flaps of his tunic. “Grab here.” Once Keith does as he says, he puts his hands on Keith’s hips, taking a handful of Keith’s tunic on either side. “This okay?”

Keith nods.

“Awkward middle school slow dance first. Follow my lead. Middle schoolers just sway, too far apart, normally off beat, but we’re going to stay with the drums for simplicity’s sake.” They sway for a moment, Keith’s eyes focussed on their feet. “Now, a little faster.”

It takes Keith a moment to adjust to the rhythm, but eventually he gets it, glancing up at Lance, who’s smiling warmly. “Good. Now, we’re going to change the direction we’re swaying. Instead of side to side, we’re going to go back and forth. When they dance, for the most part, their shoulders seem to remain parallel and we can do that. First, lean toward me, alright? Don’t move your feet yet. Same speed as before.”

Keith nods again, leaning forward as Lance leans back, and back as Lance leans forward. They’re still almost a full arm’s length apart, so Lance’s next instruction is for them to get closer together. Keith blushes as he realizes just how much closer than are now, their chests mere inches apart, but Lance doesn’t hesitate, just keeps dancing, so Keith does too. 

“Now, we move our feet a little, okay? Just baby steps. Like awkward line dancing when they forced you to do it freshman year, eh? If I step forward, you step back with the same foot. Easy peasy. Just watch my feet until you get comfortable.”

If Lance had bothered to look anywhere or at anyone but Keith, he might have noticed that the other paladins were watching them and trying to follow along. The two Gutos Emperor Meeth had dropped them off with were still dancing, gradually getting to more and more difficult moves, clearly having a ball. Had he noticed the other paladins, he might have been embarrassed. Fortunately, he did not notice.

“You’re really good at this, sugar,” Keith murmurs, offering Lance a weak smile once he’s confident in his footwork.

Lance stumbles, losing all control over his limbs. Keith laughs as Lance’s whole face turns bright red and his gaze drops to the floor. He quickly regains his feet, but his face is still flaming. “Thanks,” he mutters a little belatedly, his heart pounding. Now he’s  _ distracted.  _ Who wouldn’t be if their crush called them  _ sugar,  _ of all names? 

“What’s the next step?” Keith asks innocently, grinning from ear to ear now. Lance has never looked so adorable in his  _ life _ and Keith is going to savor every moment of it, guilt free. Besides, with the number of times Lance has made Keith turn red this mission, payback is only fair at this point.

“Uh… Um… Uh…” Lance struggles to form words, entirely discombobulated. “Do you want to do footwork or work on the torso?”

Keith glances over at the dancing Gutos. He watches as they jump and twist their legs around one another, eyebrows rising as Jet’s leg wraps around Root’s hips and pulls his pelvis directly against hers. “Maybe torso?

He’s not sure about that decision either, though, because once he focuses on their tops, there’s a certain…  _ intimacy _ ... to them as well. Root’s hands are feeling up and down Jet’s torso occasionally grabbing, pulling him closer or pushing him away. Jet’s hands rapidly go from Root’s legs to her neck, fast enough that Keith’s really not sure what’s happening. “Or maybe not,” Keith says with just as much confidence.

Lance watches too, the blush having faded from his cheeks, only to return as Root’s hand ventures a little too far south for casual company and his gaze darts away. “Let’s do more footwork. Disregarding what they’re doing with their hands, there’s actually very little they’re doing with their torsos. Basically, it’s just shoulder rolls. Whoever’s leading does a wave-like motion with their shoulders and the other person simply rolls their shoulders together. They add a lot of tricks and flairs, but really it’s not so hard. The most difficult bit will be remembering to do all of this at once.”

“So if we’re… disregarding their hands… what do we do with our hands?”

Lance shrugs. “Whatever we’re comfortable with. What we’re doing now works just fine, but if you’ve got a better idea, I’m open to hearing it. Hell, if you want to try what they’re doing, I’m fine with that too. I just… That’s a lie. I’m not sure I’m ready for that…”

Keith chuckles nervously, watching Lance implement the leading shoulder roll into his movements. Because they are so close, he has to roll his shoulders back together just to avoid being hit. “Me neither.”

They work together for over a varga, before they finally stop with the music. Both are exhausted, but satisfied. They got really comfortable with a dance similar to the Gutos, one they were confident they could reproduce.

“And you said you couldn’t dance!” Lance grins, holding up a hand for a high five.

“And still wouldn’t without you.” Keith’s smile is gentle and soft, as instead of giving Lance a high five, he laces their fingers together. “Thank you, Lance.”

Lance turns bright red once again, lowering his hand and readjusting their grip so they could still hold hands. Then he remembers the other people in the room.

Jett and Root are hopping from foot to foot, grinning like fools. The other paladins look floored. “Hehe… How did we do?”

“Great! Great! Great!” Root cheers, clapping her hands. “Natural! You are natural! Both of you move with great ease and rhythm! We are very proud!”

“Seriously, Keith, I didn’t know you could dance,” Shiro grins, coming over to squeeze his shoulder. “Much less like that!”

“I didn’t either. It was all Lance,” Keith grins in return. “He’s a really good teacher.”

“I took dance lessons for a couple years so I had an advantage,” Lance shrugs, his cheeks pink as he scratches the back of his neck. “Besides, I didn’t do that much.”

“You did more than all of us,” Pidge snorts, smiling. “You looked so natural, like you knew what you were doing, so we all tried to follow your lead.”

Lance’s smile fades and his blush darkens. “Really?” His gaze hops from paladin to paladin, disbelieving.

“Yeah, buddy. You were teaching all of us.” Hunk’s thumbs-up is mostly hidden from view, only for Lance to see.

“Oh… Well, I’m glad I could help,” he murmurs, inexplicably shy. Keith squeezes his hand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so shy,” he teases gently, his voice adoring. “Usually, you’re all about the spotlight.”

Lance shrugs, smiling weakly. “I just wasn’t expecting this. I’m not used to people looking to me for leadership.. or… watching me dance. Where I took lessons, they required the students to dance in a huge recital at the end of the season. I was too scared to dance on stage, so I always faked sick or simply refused to go on stage. They ended up refusing to give me more lessons unless I participated in the recitals, and when I refused, they kicked me.”

“Everyone gets stagefright sometimes,” Keith says with a nudge. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Lance smiles, relief leaking into his expression. “Thanks.”

“Next, we are going to learn slow dancing!” Jett exclaims, sensing a pause in the conversation.

Lance can’t help but wince. He’s already exhausted, he’s going to be sore, and honestly, he’s a little hungry. The last thing he wants to do is another varga and a half of dancing.

“Do you think perhaps we could save that lesson for another day, so we don’t get the two confused?” Allura suggests tactfully, the paladins collectively sighing in relief as Jett nods enthusiastically.

“Of course! Great idea!” Jett does a little happy dance where he stands. “Another day, we’ll dance again! Root will show you to the meal hall, where you can decide what you want to do for the rest of the afternoon! The Gutos will be at the other activities, so you can join them!”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a group discussion about the mission :P

Root leads them out into the meal hall.

Once she leaves, they’re the only people in the hall.

They obviously still have to be careful of cameras and prying eyes and ears, but for now, they relax a little. Lance and Keith let go of each other, standing a little further apart than either want to.

“How are you all holding up?” Allura whispers warmly, accompanying the question with a sympathetic smile.

“Pretty well. Meeth started interrogating us on whether or not we use terms of endearment, thanks to you and Shiro,” Pidge mutters, shaking her head. “That was uncomfortable.”

“He did that to us too,” Keith winces.

Shiro frowns. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t realize he was watching and comparing that close.”

“He is.” Lance, with more authority than he thought he could muster, speaks again. “We should communicate a little more on what our boundaries are. He’s expecting us to all be at approximately the same comfort levels in our relationships, which is doable, but not unless we communicate first.”

The others nod slowly and Keith nudges Lance with his shoulder. “He brought this up the other night, but how far are you guys going? Just nicknames and hand holding or are you guys kissing? It’s awkward and uncomfortable, but whoever’s gone the farthest in the eyes of the Gutos has set the bare minimum for everyone else.”

Again the others nod, but Allura winces. “I’ve kissed Shiro on the cheek once or twice.”

“So that’s the expectation. Peck each other on the cheek once or twice where they can see, and hopefully they’ll stop interrogating us.” Lance’s voice is unapologetic but not unkind.

“Also, Lance, I was going to ask what earlier this afternoon was about. Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?” Allura’s voice is soft but prying.

Lance blushes, but shakes his head. “I’m fine, Allura. Just got queasy.” Allura frowns at the obvious lie, but lets it go regardless. She  _ did _ bring it up in front of the entire group, after all. She could hardly blame him for lying.

“Let’s go so they don’t get suspicious,” Hunk whispers, slipping his arm around Pidge’s shoulders. “I’m worried-”

“You’re usually worried,” Pidge interrupts with a grin, poking his stomach affectionately. “Honestly, at this point, I’d be more worried if you  _ weren’t _ worried. But, you’re right. We should go. How about we go watch the melee again? It should be interesting without Keith and Lance there.”

Hunk smiles and nods. They head toward the arena.

Allura looks at Shiro. “How do you feel about arts and crafts?”

Shiro shrugs good-naturedly. “Sure.” They wander off, Allura’s arm comfortably around Shiro’s waist.

Keith looks at Lance. “What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m hungry… Do you mind if we join in on the cooking class?”

Keith’s face lights up. “Finally, something I can do!”

“You cook?” Lance smiles in surprise. He offers his hand for Keith to take, and Keith takes it eagerly. Almost as though he missed holding it.

“Yeah! Not as good as Hunk, but when I lived out in the desert, I got really good at cooking. One gets tired of crummy meals all the time.”

“That’s super cool! I can cook well enough that I wouldn’t starve without Hunk around, but not well enough that I wouldn’t miss Hunk dearly.”

Keith laughs. “Maybe I’ll be able to teach you something then.”

Blue eyes meet purple. “Maybe...” His gaze turns playful. “But maybe not.”

Keith’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but he’s smiling despite himself. He recognizes this tone. “What do you mean, maybe not?”

“I’m not saying anything about your taste, but your taste sucks.”

“What?!” Keith fake-growls, miming great offense.

“You have a mullet, Keith, and wear a crop top jacket. What happened to the other half? The world may never know. Maybe you ate it.”

“What does my fashion sense have to do with my cooking skills?” He shoves Lance playfully, dodging Lance’s attempt to shove him back.

“You are what you eat! You dress like this, it makes a guy wonder what you put into your body to get that outfit!”

Keith cocks an eyebrow as Lance sniggers playfully. “My clothing taste may be unique, but that has nothing to do with what I eat. My  _ physique _ , however, is a direct result of what I eat. Are you telling me I don’t have the body of a god?”

Lance stumbles. He has  _ no _ idea how to respond to that and the longer his tongue fails to fire back an appropriate response, the redder his cheeks get. “But… But what you eat impacts how you think and feel and what decisions you make. So it does impact your clothing choices  _ and _ your cooking choices, which  _ still _ makes your supposed cooking skills dubious at best,” he manages finally, words tumbling out of his mouth.

Keith just shakes his head and smiles, eyeing Lance amusedly. “You really are a master of redirection. You never answered the question. Just how often do you get away with that?” He shakes his head dismissively, which is good, because Lance has no clue how to answer that question either. “Doesn’t matter. Do I or do I not have the body of a god?” The question seems to have a deeper meaning, a prying energy but Lance can’t be sure.

Lance blushes darker, racing to find an answer that isn’t as telling as his cheeks. “Obviously not,” he blurts, unable to stop the smile as he finally gets his sassy legs back underneath him and Keith’s eyebrows vacation to his hairline once again in disbelief. “More like a demigod. Impressive, but not god-like.”

He doesn’t even have to say a word for Lance to know he wants an elaboration.

“Obviously, to have the body of a god you’d have to have a body identical to mine,” Lance grins, running a hand down his torso. “I am Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, in every sense perfect and ideal.” He clowns a bow. “Whereas you’re simply… Above average.” He says it flippantly, like it’s something to be ashamed of, and Keith rolls his eyes. But he doesn’t miss the compliment there.

“Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man has at least two hundred pounds on you,” Keith fires back, his cheeks dusted pink.

“Are you sure about that? The Vitruvian man was only on a piece of paper. I weigh more than a piece of paper.” Lance grins and winks, before opening the door to the cooking class and ushering him inside before he could respond.

The cooking class goes without a hitch. Keith definitely schools him at cooking, as Lance has no clue how much is too much of any one ingredient. Keith isn’t quite as natural as Hunk, who can look at a food and see the possibilities, but he’s far and away more competent than he lets on. Lance is positively floored at his skill.

“Dude, why do you never cook?” Lance can’t help but ask as they snack on their Guton culinary creation. It’s something like fish, but not quite. In any case, it’s very tasty and both of them are eating plenty. Lance only briefly worries about not being hungry for dinner.

“In the desert, it wasn’t an option,” Keith shrugs, thinking. “It didn’t matter whether I wanted to or not, I had to do it. When Voltron became a thing… Hunk is the better cook. I didn’t have to, and I don’t gain the same fulfillment out of cooking or baking like Hunk does, so I just didn’t.” He shrugs again, his eyes far away. “I don’t know, I guess. I’m glad you liked it.” He smiles crookedly, making eye contact with Lance now.

“It’s so good!” He takes another bite, and they chew in relative silence for a moment. “What do you do for fulfillment, as you call it? I take care of my skin and listen to Cuban music, Hunk cooks, Pidge tinkers, but I just realized I have no idea what you do.”

“I train a lot. I like feeling at the top of my game, you know? It makes me feel safe. It’s also a really good stress reliever for me. It helps when I can’t sleep too. In the desert, I would run laps, or do push ups and sit ups until I was exhausted.”

Lance’s eyebrows rise. “And you won’t put on a face mask? You’ll wake up in the middle of the night and do  _ push ups _ but my suggestion of a face mask is grounds for violent disgust?”

Keith shivers. “They’re cold and slimy and look silly.”

“They’re so refreshing! And you don’t put a face mask on when you’re planning to see someone. You put one on when you’re done socializing for the day to help you relax and get your skin ready for the next day.”

“But that makes me anxious, because what if someone surprises me? Shiro doesn’t always think to knock until it’s a little too late.”

“Then you pull the face mask off and they get to see you with your skin living its best life. And Shiro is hardly one to judge you on your appearance. Have you  _ seen _ his haircut?”

Keith snickers. “You have a point there. I think it’s worse than mine.”

Lance shudders. “Almost certainly. The mullet at least has… like… a population that chooses it. No one chooses Shiro’s style, at least not when they’re in their right mind.”

Once they finish their dish and clean up, they head back toward their room to change for dinner. They don dresses once more for dinner, though these are more simplistic. They don’t go as crazy on the jewelry and accessories this time at Keith’s request. They clip Keith’s hair out of his face and Lance picks out some clip-on earrings to wear. The dresses themselves are both a beautiful shade of magenta, with gold stitching and a short enough skirt that Lance wonders if he’ll end up flashing people.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little storm-watching.

Dinner, too, passes without a single hitch, more discussion of treaties and war plans and Lance almost forgets that Keith’s so close to him he’s practically sitting on him and that their hands are intertwined the whole time… Wait, no he doesn’t. Keith is basically all he can think about the entire meal, especially since Keith leaned over and pecked him on the cheek at the mention of the Blue Lion and Lance almost  _ died _ .

After dinner, Lance glances over at Keith. “Would you mind if I wanted to go watch the storm for a little while before bed?”

Keith looks almost surprized. “Not at all.”

They wander the halls in silence until they come across a smaller room with huge windows. Lance lets go of Keith for the first time in vargas, in awe of the sky. Though it  _ is _ dark outside, something like pink lightning lights up the sky every few tics, and with every flash, Lance can see what looks like rain pelting down from the heavens. The droplets look…  _ green _ , if he’s not mistaken. It’s truly an awe-inspiring concoction of danger and beauty. The clouds are thicker than on earth, he can tell just by looking, watching them tumble in the brief flashes of light. They are fast and agile, diving and dodging one another in a dance that Lance can’t hear the music to. It’s hypnotic, lovely, powerful, something Lance could watch forever.

Lance rockets back to reality at Keith’s warm hand slipping behind his elbow. Gently, Keith wraps his arm around Lance’s arm, pressing against him. Lance relaxes and stiffens, his cheeks reddening and paling all at once. “Incredible,” Keith breathes.

“Yeah,” Lance can’t tear his gaze away from Keith on his arm. He wants to enjoy this while he can. Hell, once he confesses, Keith might never come near him again. Might as well make the most of this. The anger’s claws turn to guilt’s fists. It feels like manipulation now, knowing that Keith would hate him for his secret and that not telling him is all that keeps him here now. Maybe he should just tell him and get it over with. Surely, awkwardness would be better than lying.

“At least the reason we’re stuck here is beautiful,” Keith’s soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts as he rests his head on Lance’s shoulder. “Makes it suck a little less, you know?”

All Lance can do is chuckle, tempted to remove his arm from Keith and wrap it around him instead, but decides that’s a little too much, considering no one’s probably watching. Without an audience, a display of affection like that is probably too obvious and real.

A giant crack of thunder seems to shake the very foundations of the planet, and Lance grins. “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he sighs. “That sound exactly. I love thunder… There are days I miss it so much it hurts.”

“I miss the sound of snow crunching underneath boots,” Keith says softly. There’s a moment of relative quiet, nothing but the pound of the rain and the occasional crack of thunder. “Thanks again for today.”

“Today was a bit of a rollercoaster,” Lance responds, subtly asking a question. With everything that went on… it would be difficult to pinpoint exactly what he was referring to.

“For everything except your breakdown after lunch,” Keith answers, effortlessly deciphering the question. “That was scary and I’d rather not see you that upset ever again. But… last night, this morning, the dance lessons and the cooking class and dinner… I just… Thanks.”

Lance frowns, glancing down at Keith. “Nothing happened today that you need to thank me for. If anything, I should be thanking you.”

“I’m too tired and stubborn to argue with you. Just accept my gratitude and let’s go to bed.” Lance looks down again, only to see Keith smiling warmly up at him. Lance wants to die from how absolutely adorable he is, but instead he just blushes and looks away.

“Fine…” He grumbles, slowly leading them toward their room. “I really don’t deserve your thanks though. Your gratitude would be better spent elsewhere.”

Keith sighs tiredly, but says nothing further. It’s a long moment before he speaks again. “If… If I have another nightmare… Can… Can we cuddle again?” He sounds almost scared of Lance’s response, which only makes Lance blush more.

“Of course.” Too eager. “I mean, yeah.” Still too eager. “If you want to.” Awkward. “If you think it helps…” Even more awkward. “Whatever works is fine with me.” Lance wants to  _ die _ .

Keith breathes a chuckle. “It… It really helped. You really helped.”

Lance blushes even darker and refuses to make eye-contact as he opens the door for him. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” Keith says, his eyes on Lance. “Are you okay? You look… unhappy.” Lance gets the feeling he considered a lot of words to describe him, and unhappy was the best one he could pick.

He waits until he’s in front of the sink before responding. “I’m… I’m just tired,” he sighs, knowing he’s flushing again. He scrubs at his face roughly, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. His face is washed and his teeth are brushed by the time Keith speaks again.

“Are you sure?”

Lance works up a fake smile. His thoughts are worse now, before bed. His mind is racing and screaming at him, telling him all the things he’ll never have and all the things Keith will hate him for once this mission is over. He ignores them mostly, but he can’t stop them. “I’m sure.” His eyes drift to the bed, and he swears. “We never asked about the dream thing.”

“Is this another redirection? Why would we ask someone else about my nightmares when we’re the only ones who’ve experienced them?” Despite his worries of it being redirection, he allows himself to be immediately redirected which almost makes Lance smirk, except for the fact he’s genuinely surprised by Keith’s confusion.

“Because that shouldn’t have been a “ _ we _ ” situation!” Lance splutters with a real, surprized, smile. “We were so busy figuring out what happened and how to respond to it that we never figured out  _ why _ it happened. And I, for one, think it’s the bed. Seems fitting that the mind-readers want to read minds while asleep too.”

“I guess that makes sense. But… what can we do about it?”

“Is the bed plugged in anywhere?”

The two search around the bed, but can find no outlet or cord. No power source. “Maybe it’s magic?” Keith asks after a long moment, his eyes troubled. “I can’t imagine their beds being battery powered.”

“They didn’t strike me as a magical bunch, but I could definitely be wrong. I’m not super good with knowing magic when I see it.”

Keith chuckles, his eyes watchfully following Lance. There’s another short pause. “Me neither… Are you  _ sure _ you’re okay?”

Lance looks him in the eye. “I’m fine, worrywart.”

“Fine and okay are not the same,” Keith tries, but Lance suspects it’s mostly supposed to start them bickering. When they bicker, they tend to be painfully honest, and when they suspect the other of lying…

But Lance refuses to rise to the challenge. “I’m going to bed. Don’t be afraid to wake me if you need anything.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's turn a for a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short lil boi :)
> 
> WARNING: if sexual assault or anything related makes you uncomfortable or would be unhealthy for you to read about, PLEASE be careful with this chapter. It's not too explicit by any means, but please, please be careful!

_ This time, Lance knows it for what it is when he starts dreaming, the colors and images too vivid to be a normal dream. But he’s not in Keith’s head this time. He knows the scene all too well and with a terrible awareness, he looks around for Keith. Keith can’t see this. He can’t. He won’t be able to look Keith in the eyes for  _ years _ if he sees this now. _

_ He spots Keith a moment later, looking very confused in the far corner of the alleyway, the streetlights and passing people flickering through him like he’s not even there, which, Lance supposes, is accurate. _

_ He tries to yell, waving his arms for Keith to get out. There’s only one way this nightmare ends, and there’s no way Lance can deal with Keith seeing it. This is a secret, a trauma, a lie, and there’s so much work and self-reflection he’s done to get past this. This isn’t an accurate reflection of who he is anymore. This is just a remnant of what he can never erase, and Keith  _ cannot _ see it. _

_ Keith just frowns, and looks around him, but does nothing to leave. Lance looks around too, trying to convey just how much “GET OUT” he can without hurting himself. He knows he only has moments before it’s too late.  _

_ Then someone taller and stronger than him slams against the wall, and Lance grits his teeth. He’ll never forget how the guy’s skin grated against his, how he smelled or how his breath hissed between his teeth and hovered over Lance’s skin like a toxic gas. Dreams can’t convey quite all of that, but it gets close enough. Lance’s stomach twists, but he’s in control of this dream. He wasn’t always, and he certainly wasn’t when this trauma was born, but he is now. _

_ With a certainty and confidence his twelve year old self didn’t have, he slams his knee between the attacker’s legs, following up with a double-legged donkey kick to the attacker’s stomach. He’s no longer defenseless, no longer helpless, no longer desperate. He’s powerful. He’s safe. He can get out. He can get out. He can get out. _

Lance bolts upright, panting, Keith right beside him. Lance almost winces. He can feel Keith’s gaze like a weight, but he just focuses on breathing. He did it again. He used to wake up screaming from that nightmare, but now, it’s just short of breath. Someday, he knows he will never have the dream again. He knows it.

“Memory or dream?” Keith whispers finally, and Lance shivers.

“Nightmare,” Lance whispers back, not really an answer at all.

“Real or imagined?” He hisses, less patiently.

He hates to admit it, but he doesn’t like to lie and certainly not to Keith. He’s already keeping one huge secret, another would probably be his undoing. It would take him apart at the seams and even a hug from Hunk wouldn’t be enough to hold him together. “Real.”

“Was… was that how it actually happened?” Keith asks gently, patient once more.

Another shiver rips through Lance’s body unbeckoned. “No.”

Keith is silent for a long moment. “Do you want to cuddle?”

A little shocked, Lance doesn’t say anything. So, Keith continues.

“One of my best friends introduced the practice to me. He said, whenever he or his siblings would have nightmares, they would cuddle. He said it makes him feel safe. It works like a charm for me. Are you sure?”

Lance can’t help the small smile. The way Keith talks about him… It both warms his heart and makes it ache. And did he say  _ one of his best friends _ ? “Okay,” he sighs, and Keith gently takes him into his arms. His heart aches even more, because he can’t imagine feeling any safer anywhere else. This is where he belongs, where he fits, perfectly warm and content. “It was a long time ago,” he murmurs quietly. “I’m… stronger now. I’m better. I’ve healed.”

“That’s what I say too,” Keith mumbles into Lance’s hair. “Doesn’t make the memories go away, though.” Lance’s heart aches again, not for himself but for Keith.

“Why didn’t you leave?” Lance asks, not nearly as upset as he thought he might be. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

“I tried,” Keith sighs. “I couldn’t leave. Even if I couldn’t have figured it out from your movements and things, I could feel it in, like, the fabric of the dream. You were really… ashamed I was there. Sad and afraid. I could feel everything you were feeling. I think it was because you were so lucid. When you… When you walked in on my nightmare, I wasn’t nearly as lucid as you. I could… I could see you, but it was like you were hardly there… Like a phantom. But for you, you knew I was there and had enough control to acknowledge me.”

Lance nuzzles into Keith, unwilling to say more. Neither really knew and were simply speculating, but he silently vows to ask the others about it the next day. Surely, Pidge would have some theories. Or Hunk. Or Allura, who was all in all far better versed in this kind of technology and culture than he’d likely ever be. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More hoops for the paladins to jump through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When hit with the epiphany that no one can stop me from posting a chapter whenever I please, I've decided to post one right now. For no reason at all. Definitely not to procrastinate doing homework.

“Good morning, Paladins. Today, we have a very special event set up for you!”

Lance, intuitively developing a sense of dread, rolls his shoulders and tries to resolve himself to whatever next flies out of the Emperor’s mouth. They had hardly been there a week yet and he was already learning that whenever a Guto said they had a “special” anything, it meant embarrassment and probably some variety of pain for him.

Keith’s thumb smoothes the back of Lance’s hand.

“Occasionally, to test new partnerships, the smaller villages will hold a series of trials to test the new couples. Seeing as you do not have the advantage of telepathy and impenetrable armor, many of the trials had to be modified, but we have set up a series of trials for you!”

Lance just raises an eyebrow. After his nightmare and his talk with Keith, he hadn’t slept well and between that and yesterday, he’s generally tired and snippy. He doesn’t have the energy to be nervous or stressed.

“Though all partners are inherently compatible, there are some that are stronger than the rest. Such as the partnership between Reeza and myself. We are stronger than some partners and weaker than others. The partnership between Root and Jett is one of the strongest I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing, which is part of what makes them such impressive dancers. As partnership looks a little different among humans, as you mature at a different pace, we thought it might be interesting to see which bond out of your group was the strongest and held up to our trials best.”

Keith squeezes his hand and doesn’t release. They had never quite spelled out what this meant, but Lance feels like he understands regardless. He glances at the other paladins, trying to determine their thoughts.

Pidge looks annoyed, Hunk looks nervous, Shiro looks encouraging (but really, does Shiro have any other look), and Allura looks eager. A glance at Keith reveals a face just as unsurprised and tired as his own. At least Allura is pretending like the idea appeals to them.

Nobody else is really conveying quite that vibe.

“What do the trials look like? And when do we start?” Allura asks, smiling.

“The first trial starts shortly. You’re looking at one of the many cities of the Gutos people. There’s gifts for you hidden in the building.”

“How is this a partner activity?” Allura asks, a little confused.

“You will be looking for a gift for your partner. They’ll be obvious once you see them. The goal is to find something your partner loves. If they love it, you’ll receive a high score. If they like it, a passing score. If they don’t like it, no score. If they hate it, you’ll lose points.”

Keith and Lance glance at each other, and Keith opens his mouth, but the Emperor speaks before he can.

“You have to do so without sharing preferences, as you should already know them. We have technology that can provide a fairly accurate reading, combining data from the heart rate, spikes in brain activity, and breathing. You will search the building for the perfect gift, or at least as close as you can find to the perfect gift, and you will bring it back here. You’ll reveal them once you are all hooked up to the monitors.”

Lance bites his lip and squeezes Keith’s hand.

“The gifts are all throughout the building, and all marked as such with a gold ribbon. If the item you’re looking at doesn’t have a gold ribbon, it is not a gift and taking it will result in a negative score. You are highly encouraged to follow the guidelines.”

Keith squeezes his hand back.

“You have till lunch to find your gift. Go.”

With a parting squeeze, Lance lets go of Keith and wanders away.

And two vargas later, Lance hasn’t found  _ anything _ that he thinks Keith will love. He passed a few knives, which were cool, but not perfect, and a couple jackets that Keith might have liked, even a motorcycle that Lance thought was pretty neat, but none of these things felt like the one.

Meeth had been announcing over the loud-speakers every time someone brought back a present. Lance is one of the only ones left. Even Keith found his gift pretty early on.

Lance, having wandered through most of the building, is slowly making his way back to the knives, a little disappointed in himself. He really wishes he knew Keith better. Even just a little better, and maybe this wouldn’t be so hard.

Just as he’s about to turn toward the display of knives, he spots a little doorway off to the side, dimly lit and well hidden. Curious, he wanders toward the door, then inside. Inside smells of cinnamon and ginger and everything is lit up by candles. For all intents and purposes, it appears to be a hole-in-the-wall trinket shop. Some of the items are marked with gold ribbons, but not most, and Lance almost turns around and walks back out until his eyes catch on something periwinkle.

A little stuffed hippo, with a gold ribbon tied around its neck into a cute little bow.

Not quite sure why this has caught his attention, but unable to ignore it, he gently picks it up. The fabric is soft and smooth, almost velvety. The little plastic eyes glitter like stars in the candlelight and the little mouth opens to reveal soft little lumps for teeth and a floppy little tongue. The hippo has little patches of fabric for toes and a tail, and generally is simultaneously very normal and very strange.

How did something like this end up here? Did they have hippos?

The bell chimes. They have less than a half varga to find a gift and return to the start.

Making eye contact with the shopkeeper, Lance holds up the hippo, showing them the ribbon. They smile and nod, shooing Lance away. 

Lance makes his way back to the start.

A gutos meets him there, holding a bag. Their eyes trace the gift intently, gaze flicking from Lance to the hippo, back to Lance. They offer up the bag and Lance slips the hippo inside. Then, he wanders over to Keith.

“Was getting worried you got lost,” Keith murmurs, slipping his hand back into Lance’s. “Did you find something good?”

Lance frowns, squeezing Keith’s hand. “I’m not sure. I just… saw something that I couldn’t  _ not _ get. I’m not even sure you’ll like it. I just had a feeling and… I couldn’t let it go.”

Keith cocks his head to one side, eyes on Lance. “I’m… I’m pretty sure you’ll like mine. I don’t know if you’ll love it, but I think you’ll like it. I’m very interested to see what you got me though. I’ve been told I’m not the easiest person to buy gifts for.”

Lance swallows audibly. “We might not win this competition.”

An elbow rams into Lance’s ribcage. “Don’t talk like that. Gift-giving is nerve-wracking no matter who you are. We’re just not the couple that gets gifts for one another a lot. Don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be fine. If anyone could find a gift I would love, I’m sure it’d be you.”

Blushing, his heart suddenly racing, Lance squeezes Keith’s hand again, chomping down on his lip. “Thanks, Keith,” he mumbles, suddenly even more worried. If Keith doesn’t like it, he’ll be let down. Why couldn’t he have just picked up the cool knife? Or the motorcycle? Or literally anything other than that stupid stuffed animal?

“Hey, I can see you panicking. I’m sure it’ll will be fine. I’m not going to be upset if I don’t like it, Lance. Calm down. This is just a game, alright? It’ll be alright. I’ll still like you when it’s over. I promise.”

Then comes the call for the paladins to get hooked up to the monitors. Keith and Lance are led into a small room with two small machines that look deceptively like air conditioners with slightly larger screens. Two gutos help them slip on little rings, which will monitor their heart rates, a circlet which will monitor their brains, and a necklace which will monitor their breathing.

“We look like cyberpunk royalty,” Lance chuckles nervously as the two identical bags are set down in front of them.

“Do you want me to go first?” Keith asks, reaching across the table to squeeze Lance’s hand. “That way, you can be less visibly panicking?”

Lance smiles weakly. “Would you, please?”

Keith just smiles warmly, opening the bag and reaching inside and Lance knows as soon as Keith has touched the gift, his heart rate spiking with the upward flight of Keith’s eyebrows. “It’s soft,” he murmurs softly, before gently pulling it free. As his eyes rove over the small toy, his mouth falls open.

Every time Lance thinks he’s seen Keith as soft as he gets, Keith somehow gets softer. His hands are trembling as he turns the little hippo over in his hands, and Lance is alarmed to realize his eyes are watering. After another moment of silence, Keith looks up.

“How did you know?”

Lance freezes, confused and flustered. “Know what?”

Keith shakes his head, petting the little hippo as though it were fragile. “I love it,” he mumbles softly. “I really love it. Thank you, Lance.” Then, he half-stands up, and kisses Lance firmly yet softly on the cheek. “I… I can’t believe… How am I supposed to be able to top this?”

Lance just blinks in confusion, his cheeks dark red. “I’m really confused, Keith.”

“Open yours now,” Keith nods, his eyes on Lance, even as his still shaking hands clutch the little hippo close to his chest.

Lance gingerly sticks his hand in the bag, feeling until his fingers come across something solid and round. Pulling it out, he finds himself holding a simple, translucent glass ball with a gold ribbon tied around it.

“Hold it in both hands and think about something or someone you want to see,” Keith instructs. “Like your mother, or your home.”

So Lance focuses on his mother. And before he knows it, colors and images are swirling in the ball and soon he’s watching his mother wash dishes in the kitchen sink while she hums one of her favorite songs. He’s sure it’s a memory, until one of his little cousins comes wandering into the kitchen, definitely older and bigger than he was when Lance saw him last.

Tears spring into Lance’s eyes. A window to home. Keith gave him a window home.

“I love it,” Lance croaks, tears pooling in his eyes as he strokes the image of his mother. “Thank you.” A little stiffly, he puts the ball down, picks up Keith’s hand, and kisses the knuckles tenderly. It’s a poor show of how much he appreciates the gift, but it’s the best he can do with their circumstances.

Keith smiles, blushing. “You’re welcome.”

Then several gutos come rushing in to remove the monitors and usher them outside.

Both of them are a little teary eyed and croaky voiced by the time they see the others. Hunk and Pidge are wiping tears from their eyes, but they’re tears of joy, as they’ve clearly been laughing so hard they cried. Shiro and Allura are flirting shamelessly, eyes mostly for each other, until they notice Lance and Keith. Even the other two stop giggling when they realize.

“Are you two alright?” Allura asks as the walk up to the group.

Lance glances at Keith. Both of their eyes are red and he honestly doesn’t trust his voice to not betray him. “We knew each other better than we thought, I guess.”

“Your gifts to one another made you cry?” Shiro inquires carefully, eyes on Keith. “Lance made you cry? You made Lance cry?”

Keith shrugs, slipping his hand free of Lance’s. Lance could have cried, right then and there, but he manages to say nothing. Hunk’s hand, unbeckoned, lands on his shoulder and squeezes. “He… I don’t know how he did it. He just… got… Shiro, you’d probably understand but… it sounds so dumb. I can’t say it. According to him, even he doesn’t quite understand what he got me, or why it made me… upset and so happy.”

“And Keith did the impossible for me,” Lance shrugs. “Even if I don’t think we’re going to be able to keep the gifts.”

“Hunk got me a joke present, and I almost peed my pants laughing at it!” Pidge cackles, trying to lighten a mood she isn’t quite sure how it got so dark. “Which was great, because then I got him an even funnier present that made him laugh really hard too!”

“Allura got me a new shirt and pants. They look really comfortable and stylish,” Shiro smiles, his affectionate gaze solely on Allura.

“Shiro got me an Altean book. It’s… not meant for children, shall we say,” Allura grins, licking her lips as she looks at Shiro. “It’s… very educational.”

Shiro coughs and Lance can’t believe he’s going to be the voice of reason here. “Remember the boundaries,” he whispers coolly, his eyes disbelieving. “Whatever you do, we have to do too.”

They seem to snap out of it for the most part, stepping apart a bit. “We know, Lance,” Shiro says, but it’s rather unconvincing. His face is painfully red. “It was an accident! I just recognized the language! I couldn’t read it!”

“I’m not joking. If they catch the two of you  _ learning  _ or in any way becoming educated thanks to that book _ , _ I’m going to do  _ something  _ and it’s not going to be Keith.”

Keith coughs, his hand snaking back into Lance’s with a tight squeeze.

“I was actually going to ask, Lance,” Hunk starts, if for no other reason but to change the subject, his eyes tracking the place where their hands connected. “Did you know the Gutos are using you and Keith as a unit of how close couples are? Apparently, your connection has astonished them completely.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Hunk's revelation ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided schedules are for the birds, and since I already have it completely written, I will upload as I see fit :D Have a short little baby chapter

Both Keith and Lance blink like deer in the headlights. “What?” Keith finally manages to speak for the both of them. Lance is silent, trying to open a telepathic connection to Hunk to ask him  _ why  _ in the  _ hell _ he’d bring  _ that  _ up, but he’s not succeeding.

“One of the Gutos was comparing Pidge and I to you and Lance. You’re apparently the public’s favorite, and they really think you’re going to do well here.”

Lance swallows, praying it’s not too audible. “Weird,” he chokes out carefully, his eyes definitely not locked on Hunk in a blind panic. 

“Not really, you guys are really cute together,” Hunk says companionably, apparently completely unaware of Lance’s panic. Lance can’t bear to look at Keith, doesn’t even want to guess what he’s thinking right now. Besides, if Hunk is going to play that game when he  _ knows _ how Lance feels and exactly what they talked about... Even Shiro and Allura look uncomfortable.

But awkwardness brings a strange confidence with it, and Lance is never one to take a hit lying down. “Really doesn’t make any sense at all, actually. Especially since you and Pidge are much cuter together.” 

Hunk blanches, glancing at Pidge, and the tension grows. Shiro and Allura glance at each other again, before walking away. Pidge looks at Lance, then at Hunk, then at Lance again, then makes eye contact with Keith. 

She pulls Hunk away by the arm.

Keith spins on Lance. “What was that about?”

Lance gulps. “What do you mean?” When in doubt, play dumb.

“Why did you say that to Hunk? You have to know he’s crushing on Pidge. It’s so obvious, even  _ I  _ see it. Calling him out like that, before Pidge even knows it… Kind of a dick move.”

Lance almost chokes.  _ Holy  _ shit. At least, it confirms his suspicions that Keith is a complete dumbass. He really doesn’t know about Lance’s crush. Really, truly, he has no idea, and Lance has never been more appalled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Keith sighs. “We’re all a little stressed. You really should apologize to Hunk, though. He’s pretty sensitive and he might be hurt.”

It’s all Lance can do not to scream. The pure irony in the situation is  _ unfathomable _ . “I will. Promise,” he says, voice dead of emotion. He doesn’t even have the strength to try and bullshit his way out of this one. “I guess I’m just tired.”

“Me too. Hopefully, the second challenge won’t be for a little while.”

“Paladins! The next trial is prepared!”

Lance groans. “You jinxed it.” Regardless, he heads toward the Emperor.

“Now, this is a team activity! Shiro has informed us of the Earth word for this adventure! Maze!” Meeth announces, and the surrounding Gutos cheer. The paladins and Allura simultaneously stare at Shiro. Though it  _ probably _ wasn’t his fault, the paladins collectively feel obligated to blame their leader regardless. 

“The goal is for each pair to make it to the end of the maze unscathed! The maze is dangerous and challenging! There will be various obstacles. If someone becomes so entrapped they cannot escape, they will be disqualified, but the other member of the pair may have the opportunity to finish.”

Lance glances at Keith. “We can do this.”

“But can we do this without one of us falling into a trap?” Keith asks with a wry smile, and Lance can’t help but smile a little in return.

“You’re completely right. Let me rephrase:  _ I  _ can do this,” Lance winks, and Keith gives him a half-hearted shove, squeezing his hand affectionately. “You’re the one who said it.”

“And you somehow interpreted it to mean the exact opposite of how I meant it,” Keith grumbles, before nudging Lance. “We should definitely be listening.”

“... number of traps in the maze depends entirely on which route you choose to take. Many routes are perilous, while others are comparably safer. Some routes have few traps, but they are harder to circumvent, while others have many easily escapable traps. Some traps may not appear to be traps, while others seem undoubtedly to be traps and have some capability of helping you. You are expected to work together as pairs, but that does not necessarily mean that you stay by one another’s side. If you think you can best work together to complete the maze separately, then do what you believe to be best.”

“We’re sticking together, right?” Lance asks suddenly. “I can’t see how separating would benefit us.”

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, his eyes following Meeth’s arm to where it points to the maze. A giant building with a glass roof and from what Lance can tell, no lighting. It’s dark and the corridors appear to be narrow.

“Are you suitably prepared, paladins?” Meeth’s booming voice makes the whole crowd shimmy in delight, their version of applause echoing around the room. 

Shiro and Allura nod, speaking for the rest of the group.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The maze begins.
> 
> Things... do not go exactly to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes, scheduled posting is entirely for losers... Posting when you feel like it is SO much more freeing and fun XD

Lance ties his sneakers a little tighter, nerves eating up his confidence. With the melee, he had a vague idea of what to expect. Having been in battle before, even in a space battle, he got a good idea of what it feels like to be surrounded and how to best defend himself. With the maze, which is just as daunting before him now as it had been from the other building, he has no such comfort. The building looks like an earthen greenhouse, just three times as large and filled with a brick maze instead of plants.

Keith comes to stand beside him and offers him a hand. Lance takes it, a twinge of guilt and shame so strong it prickles the backs of his eyes tweaks his stomach, but he takes Keith’s hand anyways and faces resolutely ahead. He will not break down again.

“Come stand here,” Reeza directs, and the paladins line up on the line. There’s one entrance to the maze before them. If the Emperor is to be believed, there’s three exits on the far side of the maze. Any one of them will be counted as a victory. “There’s only one more trial after this, and I imagine you will find it to be much easier than the first two. Really, it will be very rewarding! Then there will be fantastic feasting!” 

Lance gives Reeza a patient smile. “We’re all looking forward to it. I have a feeling we’re going to be starving after this. How often do you hold trials like these?”

Reeza lights up. “Not often on this scale! Many individual villages hold trials many times a phoeb! Sometimes more complex than this, sometimes less! Telepathy allows for a wide variety of trials!”

“If you’re all telepathically connected, how do you keep the solutions to the trials hidden from one another?” he asks, as the thought hits him.

Reeza blinks, the confusion clearing after a moment. “Few know the answers, and those few stay in rooms with doors shut during the creation of the trials or stay asleep. We can only interpret those thoughts that stay to the forefront of one’s mind, and those who design trials spend much time sleeping and have been trained how to protect their thoughts. Those participating in the trials also make an effort to sleep more too, as sleep is the only time one’s thoughts are private.”

Lance’s eyes widen as he remembers. “We’ve been meaning to ask, Reeza! Are the beds designed to… allow beings to share dreams?”

Reeza’s eyes glitter, their whole body shivering a little. “You have connected through dreams?” They smile, their sharp little teeth shining brightly under the fluorescent lights. “We were wondering if the technology would be capable of connecting those without telepathy! Our scientists thank you!

“In our daily lives, there is no privacy. We are not raised with quiet minds and often it is difficult for us to be separate from the whole. Our telepathy has distance limits and those of us who have to leave the whole for exploration purposes have to go through training. However, there are… exceptions. When we sleep, we are alone. For once, our minds are our own. For partners, for lovers, it is… nice to have privacy, to think the thoughts we don’t dare think in public. Our walls are built to dampen the volume of thoughts, but in our sleep, with our beds, we can truly be alone.”

“Even your rooms don’t give you complete privacy?” Keith asks quietly, seemingly appalled. 

“No. Any Guto in the area has no problem hearing our thoughts. It is more so those on the other side of the planet cannot hear. There is no true privacy in the waking for a Guto, with the exception of leaving the planet and going somewhere with no Gutos at all.”

“Crime must be nonexistent,” Allura pipes up, looking somber. “No way to commit a robbery without thinking.”

“With the exception of those who have discovered how to shield or silence their thoughts to the community. Though they are not likely to be trusted by anyone, making crime more difficult.”

“So how long does it normally take someone to complete the maze?” 

“Anywhere from a short time to a long time!” Reeza chirps, not sounding even remotely concerned about the fact they completely dodged the question. Lance nods as though that answered his question, and Emperor Meeth clears his throat into a microphone. 

“Now, the trial may begin!”

Alarmed, Lance and Keith both start to run, but once they are alone in amongst the tight brick walls and they are out of breath, they stop, their hands intertwined. 

“Do you have any idea how we’re supposed to do this?” Lance tries not to sound nervous. It’s just a maze, after all. He’d done mazes before. They’d done them as a team before. They could do it again. It’d be fine. 

“I guess we just wander until we either find traps, or find an exit. I think, as long as we don’t get trapped and we don’t end up back where we started, we should be fine. The others don’t know what they’re doing either.”

Lance nods. It’s quiet for a long moment as they wander, not speaking as they just gently tug on one another to tell direction. It’s not an awkward silence, but Lance feels the need to fill it regardless. It takes him a while to come up with conversation. “At least we figured out what the bed is for.”

Keith frowns. “What do you mean?”

Lance raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking upward. “I guess Reeza did put it pretty nicely, but it’s kinda obvious.”

With a roll of his eyes, Keith sighs. “Spell it out.”

“It’s for wet dreams, Keith.  _ Shared _ wet dreams.”

Keith turns redder than his lion, then nods. “I suppose that makes sense, especially since they’re physically incapable of being alone. Even if they’re physically on their own, they mentally have an entire population in their minds.”

“Can you imagine… actually… you know… having sex? Knowing your mom can hear everything you’re thinking? Knowing your  _ partner _ can hear everything you’re thinking? Like, they have to reproduce at some point, which means they have to have sex with everyone listening in… Or maybe they can have sleep sex? So then it’s private? Or maybe that’s just a human thing, keeping sex private and not celebrating it.”

“It would make sense if sex wasn’t something done privately, since there’s nothing private in this culture. It’s hardly a good survival tactic to make something necessary for the continuation of your species to be dependent on doing something privately that you can’t do privately. That doesn’t even make sense.”

Lance doesn’t even draw a full breath to respond before something snakes tightly around his ankle. A sound is torn from him as the tendril wraps more and more tightly around his ankle. Keith stops immediately, scanning Lance up, face going slack as his eyes find the tendril wrapped around Lance’s leg. 

“What do I do?” Lance squeaks, gripping Keith’s hand tightly.

“Can you pull free?” Keith manages finally, his eyes wide.

Lance does his best, but the tendril doesn’t budge. Lance lets go of Keith to pull at it with his hands. Keith keeps an eye on their surroundings, as the tendril doesn’t appear to be doing anything. For a long moment, Lance pulls and Keith watches and nothing happens.

Then another cry is torn from Lance’s throat, a loud and rough sound and as Keith watches, Lance goes from upright to almost horizontal, the tendril around his ankle tugging him fiercely toward a new gap in the wall. Lance slams to the ground, his hands scrambling to gain purchase, to find anything that can stop him from being ripped away.

Keith dives to grab Lance’s arms, pulling against the tendril. His heart is pounding wildly and his eyes and mind are scrambling to find any solution at all. He wouldn’t even complain with a bad solution at this point, anything is better than nothing. 

Lance squeaks as the tendril pulls harder, gripping Keith’s arms in return, his face twisted into a tight scowl. Keith pulls with all his might, but it only makes Lance groan in pain. He gasps as the tendril pulls harder, which makes Keith pull harder in return.

“I’m being pulled in two,” Lance hisses with a small smile, wincing as Keith tugs again. “I might be out for this one, Keith. I’m pretty sure this is what they call a trap.”

A thrill of panic courses through Keith at the thought. “I… Wait, I can’t… We can get you out!” Keith loses more ground as the tendril pulls harder than he can match and Lance gets another foot closer to the wall. The gap grows larger, and the dark abyss beyond is visible. Keith  _ knows _ Lance will be okay, because the Emperor said anyone trapped would be disqualified, but okay, but the concept of not knowing where Lance is, or what is happening to him is enough to make him tug harder. Maybe disqualified means something else here! He can’t imagine that the Emperor would purposely kill off the paladins, but can he really rule it out?

He  _ can’t _ fail now. Lance’s life could be on the line. He  _ can’t _ mess this up. He can’t be the reason the Blue Paladin gets killed. Especially since the Blue Paladin’s Lance. That simply can’t happen. Nope. Not allowed.

“Not trying to be a pessimist, Keith,” Lance growls, straining to pull himself closer to Keith. “You got a solution, I’m all ears.”

“Lance, we don’t know what happens if you get trapped! Getting you out is the only way this ends!” Keith struggles to pull harder, but his muscles are trembling and already starting to give way. He guesses he has no more than a couple minutes to get Lance free, or at least buy himself more time. His heart pounds harder and he mentally scrambles for another solution. He almost reaches for his bayard, before remembering that it’s on Red, outside the planet’s orbit. 

Another stab of hopelessness makes his muscles ache. 

The tendril tugs especially hard, and the cry of pain Lance releases hits Keith like a punch in the face. He almost stops pulling, just to ensure Lance never makes a sound like that again. “Keith, I’ll be fine,” Lance grunts, his eyes watering. “Let go. Finish this. We’re losing time fighting this.”

Keith shakes his head, and with a grim smile, Lance twists violently and tears himself from Keith’s grip. Though Keith immediately dives after Lance, the Cuban teen is tugged into the hole in the wall, which slams shut behind him and Keith is left alone.

Keith can hear Lance’s yell, then it abruptly fades away.

For a long moment, he can’t move, panting, trying to wrap his mind around what might have just happened. Slowly, he stands, looking and feeling lost. His hands knot themselves in front of him, suddenly unoccupied. He’s so alone, it almost hurts. Almost makes him nauseous.

Trying to take deep breaths, ensuring himself Lance is okay even though he’s 87% sure he’s not, he starts wandering. There’s no rhyme or reason to his decisions, his mind loud and silent all at once. He can’t breathe properly and his heart is still pounding and his thoughts are a constant stream of  _ Lance?!?!?!?! Dead?!?!?!?!, _ which aren’t exactly conducive to logical thinking and before he’s really aware of it, he’s sprinting.

He has to get to the end - has to find out what happened to Lance. It all happened so fast, maybe he missed something. Granted, he and Lance weren’t exactly listening closely during the instructions, so he  _ must  _ have missed  _ something _ . Lance couldn’t be… No. He can’t be. Keith is sure of it. He isn’t sure at all.

It’s not long until he finds the end, at a full sprint, but it feels like a lifetime.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze results are in, on to the next challenge, which will prove to be more difficult than initially intended for poor Keith.

Lance watches on the screen as Keith gets closer and closer to the exit. He’s waiting just outside the exit, ready to congratulate him. He’s not the first to finish (Shiro and Allura had him by a solid ten dobashes, but he’s easily going to get second. Pidge, as Hunk was also trapped early on, is far behind. It’s why Keith’s sprinting confuses him a little. Sure, it’s a competition and they both want to win, but they weren’t sprinting when they were together, so why is he sprinting now?

It doesn’t make sense, but he can already feel all the taunts that will be available when Keith completely obliterates Pidge in a challenge. It’ll be SO much fun to tease her!

He whoops and hollers as Keith finally crosses the threshold, the breath getting knocked out of him at the sheer velocity at which Keith tackles him. Keith hits him so hard, it takes a long couple ticks before what exactly Keith’s doing clicks in his brain.

Keith’s arms are tightly wrapped around him, and Keith is panting into Lance’s neck, his nose pressing against Lance’s collar bone. And Lance is standing there like a statue, dumbstruck. Eventually, he realizes what he’s doing, and wraps his arms around Keith gently in return, fingertips tracing shapes into his back. “Congrats, man! Second place!”

“Don’t do that ever again,” Keith growls, breath hot against Lance’s chest.

Lance hopes Keith can’t hear his heartbeat, as it skips two beats. “What?”

“Don’t sacrifice yourself like that. Not when we don’t know what will happen. You scared the shit out of me.”

“You… You were worried?”

Keith actually snarls, gripping him tighter. “Damn right I was worried. If… If this had been a real threat, and you had actually been hurt? Or killed?” Keith shivers violently, and Lance holds him tighter. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Sorry, Keith. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Keith grumbles again, his hold around Lance’s waist loosening a little. “I know. Just don’t do it again. I was… I was scared.”

Lance chuckles, blushing as he catches Shiro watching them closely. He squeezes Keith regardless. “It’s not like I  _ chose _ to be trapped by an inescapable tendril. We just picked the path with the weirdest assortment of traps. Most of them were pretty harmless, but we just happened to stumble across the most dangerous trap in the entire maze.”

Keith actually pulls his head out of Lance’s neck to glare at him. “Don’t do it again.”

“I’ll do my best,” Lance smiles, eyes flitting all over Keith’s face. Slowly, gently, he presses a kiss to Keith’s forehead, and tells himself he’s imagining it as Keith seems to lean into it. “Don’t panic without reason again.”

Keith shivers. “Your definition of “without reason” is  _ very  _ different from mine.”

“Congratulations, paladins!” Emperor Meeth approaches, and hesitantly, the two separate, Keith’s hand tightly intertwining with Lance’s. Keith feels still, for the first time all day. “Second place is no place to diminish the importance of.”

Lance squeezes Keith’s hand, not as a signal of anything, but as a comfort. He’s surprised to find Keith is still shaking and is visibly upset, though not as much as he was. “Thanks, Emperor. There was no way we could have beaten Allura and Shiro. This is their element.”

The Emperor smiles, and Lance gets the distinct impression that the Emperor knows something that Lance does not and will not know any time soon. If asked, Lance would not be able to pin down exactly what it is that tells him this, but it’s clear as day. “It will be up to the people. There is an overall winner, after all. Whichever partnership was best picked will bring honor to their families and villages and the people aren’t soon to forget that kind of love before them. These partnerships are the pillars of our society, in all elements.”

“Who tallies the votes?”

The Emperor’s smile takes a turn for the patient. “We telepathically add tallies to a count we collectively maintain. There’s a couple gutos who chose not to vote in favor to ensure no one changes the votes in their candidate’s favor, but for the most part it is a self-regulated democatic voting system.”

Lance nods, his adrenaline fading as Keith seems to relax a little at his side. “Interesting. What happens if someone does try and cheat?”

Emperor Meeth sighs. “The candidate they were trying to vote for loses one thousand votes for every additional vote the person placed. The idea is that we promote honesty because dishonesty will not result in your candidate winning. It works fairly well. There’s always one upshot that thinks they can best the system, but they cannot and often pay heavily for it. But, that does not matter! The other pair are nearing the exit, so we feel confident that we can start you on the next challenge!”

Lance glances at Keith, but shrugs and moves to follow him down a relatively narrow hallway, behind Shiro, Allura, and Reeza. Keith still seems unsettled, his grip on Lance’s hand tighter than normal and his face pale. Keith doesn’t meet his eyes, just follows behind timidly.

Reeza leads Shiro and Allura away, and Lance and Keith keep following Emperor Meeth. Lance tries to stamp out the growing worry as the door Shiro and Allura went into shuts audibly behind them. Then, Emperor Meeth stops, unlocking the door to his right.

“This is a much different challenge than the last. To my knowledge, this challenge is more intimate and difficult for humans, though for gutos, this is one of the easiest challenges.”

Lance glances again at Keith. “What is the challenge?”

Emperor Meeth grins. “Go see.”

Lance leads the way, tentatively tugging Keith behind him. Inside was not a sight so alien to him, but it doesn’t really answer any of his questions. Before him is the spa his skin yearns for desperately, especially as he hasn’t had access to his skincare routine in days. Pools of steaming water, glittering candles, fluffy towels, and delicate flower arrangements are scattered around the room. The room is pleasantly warm and smells fantastic. 

The room is so distracting, Lance almost doesn’t notice how shaky Keith’s just gotten. But he does notice, and gently tugs Keith to his chest, if for no other reason than to hide Keith’s obvious discomfort from Emperor Meeth. Keith buries his head into Lance’s neck, arms snaking shakily around Lance’s middle.

“The challenge is who can relax the chosen partner most in the span of three hours! When you hear the bell, Keith needs to slip on a bracelet, and then the challenge will begin!”

Lance forces an excited smile. “This sounds like a piece of cake!”

Emperor Meeth smiles that knowing smile again and Lance feels his anxiety spike as the Emperor leaves without another word.

Lance turns his attention to Keith immediately. “You okay, Keith?”

“Don’t like spas.”

“For the same reason you don’t like arms around your neck?” Lance murmurs quietly, rubbing his back.

Keith shivers. “Yeah.”

“Was… was that your dad? That did that to you?”

Keith stiffens like he was electrocuted. “No! My dad… My dad would never! That… That was a foster parent. I… I was in the system for a long time.”

Lance nods soothingly, not wanting to agitate Keith anymore than he already is. “Okay…. What don’t you like about spas? How can I help?”

Another shiver. Keith’s fingers crawl into a more firm position on Lance’s back. “Bad experiences. Hot tubs… Scents… Sounds.” He begins trembling, which makes Lance frown even more. “I’d… rather go scuba diving in a sewer without any gear than be here.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Keith. Is there anything I can do to make this better for you? I can blow out the candles? I can move the flowers?”

“I… I don’t know if you can make this better for me, Lance. I don’t think we’re going to do too well on this one.”

Lance rolls his shoulders defiantly, confidence growing. “Babe, we can do this. I’m here, okay? We’ll work together. We’ll figure this out.”

Keith looks up at him now, his face still pale. “There’s a helluva lot of trauma bottled up in this almost god-like body to get over in three hours.”

The smile Lance gives him is impossibly confident and compassionate. “The challenge is to get you to calm down in this room. We don’t have to use anything in here to do that. You don’t have to “get over” anything. That’s for you to work on when and if you want, and not a moment before.”

Keith nods, frowning. “That… That doesn’t sound too impossible… I guess…”

Lance cups Keith’s face with both hands, pressing another kiss to his forehead, heart throbbing painfully as his whispers against his skin. “Just trust me, okay, babe? We can do this.  _ You  _ can do this.”

Keith’s eyes flutter shut as Lance’s lips make contact with his skin. His hands ghost up to wrap around Lance’s wrists. “Okay.”

“Is there somewhere in here we could lie down that isn’t packed with trauma for you?” Lance murmurs, lips still brushing the pale skin. His heart is pounding. Keith isn’t pushing him away, isn’t telling him to stop, isn’t separating them.

“The floor?” Keith’s voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

Lance nods, his head nudging Keith’s. “Is right here okay?”

Keith nods too.

The bell goes off. It’s a soft, gentle noise, but both of them jump nonetheless. Lance offers a bracelet to Keith, and Keith’s bony hand, made soft by the pale skin and visible veins, which hadn’t left Lance’s arm, picks up the bracelet and slips it on.

Lance takes a deep breath, nose brushing Keith’s. “Let’s sit cross-legged, okay? On the count of three?”

Another nod.

“One, two, three…” Lance gently tugs downward as he sits, and Keith follows compliantly. “Do you think you can lay down?”

Keith trembles a little. “Maybe. What… What would happen next?”

“Haven’t really gotten that far. Whatever you’re comfortable with. It’s just easiest to calm down when you’re lying down. Is that too much?”

Letting go of Lance’s arms, Keith braces himself and begins to shift, his breathing tight. Lance guides Keith’s head to rest on his legs, where they cross. Keith looks up at him, purple eyes blinking in fear, so Lance just smiles warmly, ignoring his racing, hurting heart, as he strokes Keith’s cheeks softly. “You’re safe, my love. Breathe, okay? You’re safe in my arms.”

Keith’s eyes stay focussed on Lance’s, and slowly, Keith’s breathing slows. Lance keeps stroking Keith’s face, never covering his eyes, but letting his fingers trace Keith’s chin, lips, nose, cheeks, jaw. “Is this okay?” He asks softly.

“Yeah,” Keith sighs, eyelids drooping a little.

“You can close your eyes, babe. I’ll keep you safe. Trust me.”

Keith’s eyelids droop again, and this time he lets them shut for a moment. Lance’s fingers trail beyond his hairline, tan fingers dipping under and between dark locks. Keith shudders, but his lips tilt toward a smile and Lance smiles back. 

“Feels good,” Keith murmurs, eyes drooping shut and staying closed now. “Thanks, Lance.”

“No problem, love.”

In another hour, Lance is pretty sure Keith has fallen asleep. His dark hair has been woven into several loose, untied plaits, his face and scalp lightly massaged and completely relaxed. Satisfied his work is as finished as it gets, Lance leans back on his hands and waits for the bell to go off again. Keith needed a nap, and he’s impossibly beautiful in his sleep anyway.

His lips are slightly parted, his freckles stunning, all present and ready to be counted though they are as numerous as the stars. His eyelashes are long and elegant, thicker than Lance would have guessed. Lance takes in every detail, the way Keith breathes, the sighs he releases in his sleep when Lance’s fingers run over the crown of his forehead, his lips, and under his eyes.

The hours pass quickly.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the last trial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short boi today :)

The bell wakes Keith slowly, and he rubs his eyes, stretching. It’s then that his eyes finally focus and the purple orbs find tan skin and blue eyes. He flushes immediately, slowly sitting up.

“I fell asleep?” He asks, his voice raspier than before. “Here?”

Lance shrugs, letting a satisfied smirk crawl across his features. “Eventually, thanks to my expert ministrations. Besides, you earned a good nap.”

Keith looks impossibly touched. “Thanks, Lance.”

“We should probably get up, though. Emperor Meeth or Reeza should be back any minute to tell us how we did.”

Keith frowns. His hand snakes into Lance’s hand as his eyes trace the different items in the room. “Was sleeping allowed?”

“They never said it wasn’t, and that’s all that matters. I’m assuming it’s like the melee where it wasn’t preferred, but not illegal, otherwise they would have told us. Besides, sleeping is the most relaxed we get as humans anyway, so it’s not like we were cheating. Bet you ten cents Hunk or Pidge fell asleep. Pidge can sleep anywhere and Hunk is  _ always _ down for a nap.”

Keith runs his hand over his hair, gently feeling the braids without tugging them apart. “No one else could have gotten me to fall asleep here,” he says softly. “No one else, Lance.”

“Shiro probably could-”

“No. He couldn’t have, Lance.” Keith’s voice is sharp and uncompromising, but also incredibly kind. “He does not process things like I do. He loves me and I love him, of course, but there are certain parts of me he does not get to see because he will not know how to help me. He might try, but he would not succeed. But you… You’re not like him, Lance, and I mean that as a compliment. You… you understand me.”

Lance turns dark, dark red. “It doesn’t help that we’re being forced into these situations and neither of us have a choice. I have to understand you to get us out of these situations.”

Keith squeezes his hand tightly, almost painfully for a moment. “You need to take a compliment, Lance. I’m saying you’re incredible and patient and compassionate and I’m not saying it because I have to or because I want to get away from here. I’m saying it because it’s true and worth saying.”

If Lance was dark red before, he grows darker still now, the blush spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. He feels like his whole face is on fire. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith smirks in satisfaction, “You’re welcome.”

Then Emperor Meeth and Reeza enter, beaming. “Well done, paladins! You have done the best!”

The paladins glance at each other. “We… won?” Lance stumbles, still not quite back down to his regular color.

“Of course we won, babe,” Keith smirks, pressing a quick kiss to Lance’s cheek, which only worsens Lance’s blushing, especially when he notices Shiro, Allura, Hunk and Pidge behind the guton royalty and all staring intently. “We were awesome.”

“Keith, the chosen paladin to receive the treatment started with his heart rate the highest and ended with his heart rate the lowest. In second, we have Hunk, and in third, Shiro.”

“So what comes next?” Keith asks, completely dropping the flirty tone.

“We set the vote in motion, then at the dance, we announce the winners!”

Keith and Lance glance at each again, for what feels like the umpteenth time that day. 

“Only another three movements to wait, then,” Shiro says cheerfully, but even his eyes look tired. Only three movements indeed.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally, the big day has come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say... climax*?
> 
> *as in the climax of the story, my gutter-minded friends XP

Turns out, those three movements would pass far more quickly than any of the paladins would have imagined. Between dance lessons (of which there were  _ many _ ), meals (apparently the gutos had adapted their schedule to earth meals, and as the quintants wore on, they reverted back to their original schedule, which involved seven meals a quintant), and other various lessons and classes in guton traditions and history, it feels to Lance like he blinked and they ended up here.

The varga before the big celebration, where they would be dancing and eating and dancing. Where  _ he  _ would be dancing the night away with Keith. He tries not to vomit.

Keith and him got along  _ great _ . After those first few rough patches, Lance got better at hiding when his heart hurt, and Keith only got better at pretending they were in love. Like a well-oiled machine, they churned out varga after varga of faked affection and forced intimacy like it was nothing.

They were both turning into  _ really  _ good liars.

Lance looks at himself in the mirror. His hair had grown quickly with this new diet, and was far longer than he liked. Gutos don’t believe in cutting hair, so finding a barber was impossible and he isn’t nearly brave enough to cut it himself or trust one of the paladins to cut it for him. With the new length, though, he has added more accessories and worked a little harder at styling it. One can’t  _ not _ feel suave in the elegant gown he had been given, so he rolls his shoulders and tries to look confident.

The deep scarlet gown is floor-length and slim, with cutouts at waist. The back dipped down to his hips, the front dipping almost as low. The skirt has a high slit, the top of the slit crowned with a diadem. He looks like he walked out of the board game Clue, especially as he wraps a bushy faux fur scarf around his shoulders. He’s taller than normal, his heels almost three inches tall. He did his own makeup, dark eyeshadow and a dark red matte lip.

He looks incredible, but he’s never been more nervous in his life. Keith’s voice from behind him startles him out of his thoughts. “Do… Do I look okay?”

Lance swallows and turns, his jaw dropping. Keith is decked in indigo, a suit in the style of earth’s, a sheer shirt under the velvet suit coat. He looks  _ stunning _ , the get-up accentuating his eyes. Allura or Shiro had done his makeup, dark eyeliner and eyeshadow making him look more seductive and alluring, his cheekbones sharply contoured and his lips glossy. His hair, also noticeably longer than it was when they arrived, was an intricate tangle of braids and gems.

“ _ Okay _ ?” Lance chokes out, struggling to find the words. “You look  _ fantastic!” _

Keith’s nervous smile lights up a room. “Really?”

“I can’t believe you even asked!” he yelps in disbelief. He looks over himself again, critically looking over his outfit again. He can’t help but feel it’s lackluster compared to Keith’s. “Especially since you can see my outfit.”

Keith comes up behind Lance in the mirror, setting his chin down on Lance’s shoulder. “You look fine to me.”

Lance blushes, trying not to think about the fact that Keith isn’t performing here - there’s no audience or anyone to impress. He’s doing this because he wants to. “That’s the whole problem! You look ethereal, and I look fine.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “I can’t be ethereal. I don’t have the god-like physique, remember? I have to use clothing to make up the difference, so I’m not completely outshone by your immaculate elegance. You start out at a ten, and can only get better. I start out at a six, and have to hope my clothes help.”

Lance blushes darker, hiding it with a groan as he looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to argue this with you. It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to feel appropriately dressed no matter what, so I might as well stop trying. How is it we’ve waited three movements for this, and somehow, I feel less ready than I did four movements ago!”

“It’s because when you don’t know anything, you have an excuse for making a mistake. You didn’t know all the things you could mess up. If you make a mistake now, it’s not because you don’t know, but because you screwed up. You’re more ready than you know, but you also know how many places things can go wrong.”

Lance groans again, covering his face. “I don’t want to go.”

“We don’t have a choice, unfortunately. Maybe one of us can fake sick later on, so we don’t have to stay the whole time, but we should stay for dinner and find out who won our little competition.”

“Fair enough,” Lance mumbles, finally rolling his shoulders, and offering his hand to Keith. “Ready to face the crowd?”

Keith smiles. “Apparently more ready than you.” His hand slips into Lance’s, which simultaneously calms his stomach and causes it to flip flop. “You’ll do great. I believe in you.”

“Since when are you the optimistic one?!” Lance opens their door, holding it so Keith is the first one to leave the room. 

“Since you decided to be anxious, pessimistic one,” Keith says softly, leading them toward the main hall. “You really do look amazing, Lance. I really don’t know why you’re so worried.”

They have to walk slower due to Lance’s heels, but they eventually make it to the hall. It’s packed wall to wall with gutos, but fortunately, the paladins stick out like sore thumbs despite their best attempts. Keith and Lance drift toward Shiro and Allura, who were drifting toward Hunk and Pidge. 

When they all collide, the air fills with gasps of amazement. 

Shiro, decked in an all white dress and heels, seems to glow like an angel. His eyeliner is crazy winged and stunning, with hot pink eye shadow and an equally bright lip. Where Lance’s gown seemed to have crawled out of a game of Clue, Shiro’s gown seems to have crawled out of a ballet: poofy, feathery, shorter skirt, showing off his muscular physique. The sleeves are longer and tight to his arms. 

Allura, the dark to his brightness, wears all black in the form of a well-altered pant suit. Her pop of color is the gems in her hair, which flows unhindered down her back. She also wears impressively tall heels. Her makeup is heavy, dark and striking.

Pidge is wearing a dress, but Lance can’t quite describe it even if he tried. Where most of the garments the gutos had provided had been relatively monochrome, with at most two or three colors, this garment is a clash of patterns and colors. The cut of the dress is a pretty simple boxy dress. The patterns seem to be made entirely of diadems in different colors and arrangements. Her flats are black and simple. Her makeup is natural and simple as well, not obnoxious at all. She’s breath-taking too. 

Hunk is also in a dress, similar yet exactly opposite to Pidge’s in every way. Where Pidge’s dress is all the colors, Hunk’s is monochrome yellow. Where Pidge’s is shorter, Hunk’s is a little longer. Where Pidge’s dress is long sleeved, Hunk’s is short sleeved. Where Pidge’s has a full back, Hunk’s has ribbon detailing on the back. Where Pidge wears delicate flats, Hunk gets black, beaten up combat boots. His makeup is similar to Allura’s, dark and heavy, again, opposite to Pidge’s in every way.

All in all, they are a jaw-dropping group, even for human standards. They fling compliments at each other, all of them talking over one another in attempts to express their excitement. The end of this particularly eventful mission is near and they are all extremely aware of it.

Lance feels his confidence settle back into place. He looks just like his friends. He’s fine. He can do this. “First, we dance for a while, right?” Lance asks as the commotion dies a little. “Then we eat, then more dancing?”

Shiro nods firmly, his arm comfortably around Allura’s back, his hand hooked on her hip. “Just like we practiced. Normal dancing, then slow dancing, then dinner, then announcements and awards, then more dancing. It’ll be fun, but if you need anything, we’ll both be ready,” Shiro says, pressing a kiss to Allura’s temple. 

“So, let’s dance,” Allura grins as the music starts up. 

Keith tugs on Lance’s hand, and they take up their positions. Over the course of the last couple movements, they’d worked really hard on their dancing, and it has paid off. They dance like they were born doing it, like they are the only people in the room who matter, and the people watching have to agree. They move like their minds are connected, each movement elegant and smooth. They have no other worries on their minds, only what move comes next, their bodies close and their breaths intermingling. 

Even the other paladins each stop occasionally to watch them dance.

It must be vargas, but it feels like mere moments later that the music slows to a stop and fades away. Keith and Lance are panting, mere inches apart. Their breaths are coming fast and hot, and though their hands still grasp the others’ hips, their hands shake. 

“We did it,” Lance mumbles, a grin slowly lighting up his features brilliantly. “We didn’t screw up.”

Keith grins too, slowly raising his fist to knock gently on Lance’s damp forehead. “Don’t jinx it. There’s still time.”

Lance sniggers, releasing Keith’s hips as he takes a good long look around the room. Emperor Meeth and Reeza, who has just bothered to share their title as Excellency, are perched in thrones high above the dancefloor, diadems on their heads. They smile and wave as Lance looks at them, and Lance waves back.

“Food?” Lance says eventually, gesturing back toward the table of alien treats and foods. Even Hunk didn’t seem to recognize them, as Lance can see him engaged with a lively conversation with the chef.

“I’m starving,” Keith smiles, his other hand slipping into Lance’s. They wander toward the buffet. The food smells surprisingly fantastic and even Lance, who’s so relieved that one third of their evening is already done he isn’t really hungry at all, but the smell has him drooling. 

He grabs him and Keith plates, handing one to Keith as they separate to get the food they want. There’s so many tables of food, so many options that Lance doesn’t recognize, it requires careful consideration. He tries to see it how Hunk would see it, a stunning display of craftsmanship and creativity, each dish with its own talent and skill and beauty. 

A few dobashes pass, and Lance finally has his food. It almost makes a full rainbow, and he briefly ponders taking a picture of it back to the health teachers in the Garrison who had insisted that the only way to be healthy is to eat the rainbow of foods. 

He finds a good filter, and the picture is actually pretty aesthetically pleasing.

He goes to stand by Hunk, sure Keith is ready for a little break from him. After all, they had spent more time together in the past phoeb than they had spent the entire time they had known each other. It was a little startling, honestly, even for Lance. He doesn’t mind it of course; Keith is the most interesting person he’d ever had the fortune of meeting. Cute, grumpy, sweet, temperamental, intelligent, dumbass… Really, the ideal concoction for a friend.

That’s what they were now. Friends. Lance… Lance almost starts crying on the spot. Even after this mission was over and they all had the chance to have some personal space for a while, Lance was getting the impression from Keith that they’d… still hang out sometimes? Maybe even more than they did before?

Lance is thrilled. Horribly, inconsolably heartbroken, but thrilled. (Don’t worry, Hunk’s expressed his confusion at the mixture as well)

He nibbles at his food, spotting Keith talking to some of the gutos in a small circle. Shiro joins Hunk and him in conversation with the chef, and with Hunk  not so subtly tipping Lance off that the chef didn’t necessarily make the food how  _ Hunk _ would have made it. He’s not saying it’s  _ wrong _ , per se, just not exactly correct. Which, of course, is completely hilarious, and for a while, Lance is content to small talk and laugh and eat.

It’s almost half a varga later that Lance gets the sinking feeling that something is wrong. He instinctively looks for Keith. The dark head is turned away from him, but Lance, without saying a word to Hunk, Shiro, or the chef (whose name, Lance discovered through the course of conversation, was Haank, much to the delight of Hunk), goes to him. As he gets closer, he can feel his heart starting to race. He’s so sure something’s wrong and has  _ no _ idea why. 

He finally pushes through the crowd, coming up behind Keith.

Keith hasn’t moved, though the crowd around him pulses with life. Lance is pretty sure he’s trembling, which only makes the rock sinking in his stomach heavier. Hesitantly, Lance taps him on the shoulder. The room echoes with music and the gutos had collectively decided they were going to speak out loud, so the room was also loud with conversation, but Lance had tunnel-vision, tunnel-hearing, tunnel-focus. If it isn’t Keith Kogane, it isn’t important.

“Keith? You okay?” Lance’s voice is trembling, and he has never seen Keith so still, so unsteady. “Babe?”

Keith slowly turns around, and Lance’s breath catches as he looks at Keith. Keith is ashen, almost blue, his eyes horribly bloodshot. His lips twitch and shake, and though he’s breathing, he doesn’t look like he’s having an easy time of it. He begins to reach for Lance, only managing a hoarse rasp, and Lance instinctively moves to wrap his arms around him.

Keith collapses almost instantly, huddling into Lance like his life depends on it. Lance gasps, almost choking on air. Keith is  _ freezing _ . Not just chilly or like bad-circulation cool, no,  _ freezing _ . With one hand, he takes off his scarf and wraps it around Keith. Slowly, he lowers them both to the ground, because Keith is bearing none of his own weight.

“Keith, what’s wrong?” Lance stammers finally, unable to comprehend how less than a varga apart somehow led to  _ this _ .

“Don’t feel well,” Keith mumbles, barely louder than a whisper. His hand stiffly traces the neckline of Lance’s dress, his eyes focussed with a vague intensity that only sickness can bring.

Lance blinks, his panic making him blank. Finally, he finds his voice. “Help! He needs help! Medical attention! Shiro! Hunk! Pidge! Allura! Help! Emperor Meeth! Someone!”

He yells louder and louder, tears welling in his eyes as Keith’s shivering gets worse, his complexion gets more blue, and his eyes slowly fall shut and don’t open. Keith stops responding, but Lance only clutches him closer. Finally, some of the gutos part and the paladins coming running up. They stand, shell-shocked, until Emperor Meeth appears beside them, his face grim. “Get him to the hospital,” he says, with more calm than Lance can imagine summoning. “He is to receive the best treatment our facilities can offer.”

He doesn’t have to raise his voice for the gutos who don’t know how to help to get out of the way and for the gutos who do to rush in. Lance refuses to let go of Keith, trembling himself, but carries him desperately, refusing to leave his side for even a moment.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has a realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving if that's a thing that you celebrate! If not, happy Thursday!
> 
> More angst was you wanted... right? ;P

In twenty vargas, nothing has changed. His condition has stabilized, or so the gutos tending him say, but nothing has changed. Lance has never been more worried in his life. He didn’t sleep at all, hasn’t even moved. He’s sat at Keith’s side, holding his hand, unwavering. Doctors and professionals and experts and scientists keep filing in and out, trying solutions and asking questions. Nothing works.

They don’t even know why he’s sick. The gutos are  _ sure _ it’s not food poisoning, nor any other sort of deception. There’s no physical wound. There’s not a guto on the planet who has a single clue, and the Emperor assured Lance repeatedly that he did the most thorough, invasive search he could. But, in Lance’s eyes, it’s not enough.

If Keith doesn’t get better, Lance isn’t sure he’ll ever be okay again.

There’s a soft knock on the door. Lance doesn’t even turn around. He has to watch the heart monitor, watch Keith’s chest rise and fall, watch Keith’s features for any sign of consciousness, because he hasn’t seen Keith’s eyes open since they fell closed and frankly the longer he goes without seeing them, the more anxious he gets. So, he has to keep watch, to make sure he doesn’t miss them.

He can recognize Reeza by their awkward shuffle. “Lance, I have come to check on you. Shiro says you are… unsleeping. Uneating. Undrinking. Are you well? Do you also feel ill?”

A sob blindsides Lance and his eyes well with tears. “I’m worried about him, Reeza.”

A small hand lands on his back, rubbing small circles. “I am as well. The knowledgeable among us are trying their best. They’re doing extensive dives into human biology, including your evolution and how mutations in your genetics work-”

It hits Lance like a train, so much so that for the first time in vargas, he looks up and at Reeza. “Hu-human… He’s… Holy shit… He’s not completely human! Reeza, he’s half galra!  _ Galra _ ! Holy… Holy shit… shit shit shit… Reeza, is that why he’s sick? Did you serve food poisonous to galra? Is… Was he poisoned?!”

Reeza looks equally stunned for a moment, before closing their eyes. “Yes. Not intentionally. It was a dietary need completely unconsidered.”

“Can you cure him?!” Lance yells, not meaning to, but he can’t stand the concept that they might not cure him because  _ Lance _ lied about his origins.

Emperor Meeth enters a moment later, a team of doctors trailing him. “He will be cured. I promised him our best treatment. A simple misunderstanding will not change that.”

Lance almost collapses, gripping Keith’s hand tighter than ever. “Please,” he begs, shaking. “Hurry.”

Lance is still watching when the next day, Keith’s skin color slowly turns more pink once again. He’s still holding his hand, when six vargas later, his body temperature slowly begins to climb. He’s still awake, when another six vargas later, Keith’s eyes begin to slowly slide open.

Keith’s eyes, significantly less bloodshot, find Lance’s immediately. A weak smile works its way across Keith’s features. “Lance,” he croaks, and Lance starts sobbing immediately, collapsing forward onto the bed, his forehead resting against Keith’s hand.

His sobbing only worsens when Keith’s hand weakly comes to rest on top of Lance’s hands, rubbing softly. Lance pours all his worries and fears into his sobs, and Keith just sits there, too weak to do anything more to comfort him. Lance knows that his lack of sleep is probably not helping, of course. Nor is his not having eaten, or taken more than a couple sips of water in the past two quintants. 

Eventually, he calms back down. Keith has tears on his face too, which Lance wipes away with the gentlest touches. “How… How long was I out?” Keith asks.

“40 vargas,” Lance rasps, just looking at Keith, marvelling at him. There was a stretch where the doctors were honestly not sure he’d make it to ten vargas, and Lance was struck with the horrible thought that his last words to Keith were dumbstruck ones. “Worst two quintants of my life.”

Keith shivers. “What… What happened to me?”

“They poisoned you… On accident, of course. Your galra half was apparently near-fatally susceptible to a poison in a certain fruit that was in most of the dishes. For most other races, it’s fine. But, for galra, especially the weaker ones, it can kill them in mere dobashes. Your human half is the only reason you didn’t die before I could get to you.”

“Damn…” Keith mutters, eyeing Lance. “You look tired. You haven’t slept, have you?”

Lance bristles. “Of course not. You were  _ dying _ , Keith. You. Were.  _ Dying _ . Do you have  _ any _ idea how terrifying that is? You’re one of my best friends. And there’s still so much shit I haven’t said and my last words to you included food. You could have  _ died _ and-”

“What haven’t you said?” Keith interrupts, weirdly still. “What haven’t you told me?”

“I don’t think now’s a good time-” Lance tries, his face heating.

“No, tell me,” Keith’s voice was uncompromising.

In any other circumstance, he would have bullshitted his way out of this one, because he definitely wasn’t ready yet, but here, he is tired and hungry and so relieved he can hardly think. So, he opens his mouth.

“I have a crush on you, Keith. I have the whole time. I like you so much, I don’t know how to handle it. It’s part of the reason I was so scared to be around you so much. Then, when I almost lost you without ever telling you, I almost died.”

Keith’s eyes widen, his cheeks darkening. “Oh.”

“And I haven’t told you that I think you’re the most amazing person in the whole universe. That I have never crushed on anyone as hard as I’m crushing on you. How I almost came out that first weekend, when I had that mental breakdown, but Hunk talked me out of it. How me staying every moment, not leaving you for a damned second was not an act, not what nice people do, not necessarily what the gutos expected me to do. How me staying was the only thing keeping me together. How when I told Reeza that you were part galra, and they seemed to make judgements based on that, I was prepared to do anything, offer anything, to make them fix you. How spending every moment by your side, your boyfriend and not all at once, was the worst kind of torture, and I couldn’t even complain about it to my best friend, because you’re my best friend.”

“Uh…” Keith stutters. He can’t compose himself fast enough.

Lance gets up and leaves.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance hides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i KNOW i already posted a chapter today but frankly i'm too impatient to wait to post more XD so have another

Lance sleeps in a random empty room for six vargas straight, wakes up briefly to vomit and cry, then sleeps more. 

He knows the other paladins will be getting worried, and Keith is probably lying to cover their asses, but Lance can’t find it in himself to care. He confessed his biggest secret to Keith and now, he knows he has to deal with the consequences, but frankly, he’s too scared. If that makes him a coward, he’s fine being a coward.

It’s the hunger that convinces him to get up and leave the room. 

The hallway is empty and quiet. It’s mid-afternoon. The paladins are supposed to finally leave in three vargas. He wanders toward the dining hall, finding it mostly empty. He meanders into the kitchen, stealing the Gutos’ equivalent of an apple. He stands in the dark, slowly eating it. He can see people walking around the hall, but they can’t really see him.

He watches as Hunk and Shiro meet near the middle of the hall, looking incredibly worried. Lance can barely hear their conversation, but manages to pick up bits and pieces. They’re looking for him. They’re worried about him. Keith is near frantic. 

Lance just watches, silently. 

The two paladins, black and yellow, wander toward an exit near the kitchens. Though their conversation gets quieter, Lance can actually hear more now.

“I’ve  _ never  _ seen Keith this stressed,” Shiro murmurs, running a hand through his hair. “He damn near died, and he’s worried about Lance.”

Hunk humphs, a sign to anyone who knows him that he heard, but isn’t necessarily being totally upfront with all he knows. However, he's basically  _ begging _ someone asking him to share.

“What do you mean?” Shiro asks tiredly.

“I think Lance told Keith about his crush.”

Shiro’s eyes widen. “Finally.”

Lance’s blood freezes.

“But then where is Lance?” Shiro continues, clearly vaguely confused.

Hunk frowns. “Probably hiding. He’s pretty anxious about real feelings and relationships. He’s flirty, not experienced.”

“But… Nevermind. I… They are such idiots.”

Hunk lets out a short laugh. “If either of them could hear you, they’d probably agree.”

Lance does agree. He left before Keith could even answer. Just because he didn’t say anything quickly doesn’t mean he was going to say upsetting things. It’s still Keith’s fault, obviously, but he does wonder if a little bit of the blame should fall on himself.

Just a little bit.

“I… I really hope Lance turns up soon. We’re going to be leaving soon, and there’s a whole leaving ceremony we need to attend as a group. And the Gutos  _ really  _ want to announce the winners of the challenge… tournament thing. Besides, the only way they can rectify things is if they talk.”

Lance, overtaken with some sort of guilt, steps out of the kitchen into the light. “Hey guys,” he says quietly, as if he hadn’t overheard  _ that  _ entire conversation. 

Hunk grins with relief, embracing Lance in a tight hug that feels like all his pieces are being squeezed back together. “It’s  _ really _ good to see ya, buddy!” Lance smiles weakly.

“Where have you been?” Shiro asks, trying to look angry, but the relief all over his face and in his voice ruins the illusion quite succinctly. “We’ve looked everywhere for you. Keith has been worried sick.”

That was the wrong thing to say, and Lance knows Shiro knows it by the look on his face. “Obviously not everywhere, because I was in the same room for almost a full quintant.” His voice is sharp and irritated, but anxiety wears him down. “Is he okay?” His voice is quiet, and Shiro softens. 

“Yeah.  _ Really _ worried about you, but he’s doing much better. He was out of bed and walking around again a little a few vargas ago.”

Lance nods, sighing with relief. “That’s good.”

Shiro gives him a painfully parental look and Lance braces himself for whatever dad-like comment is going to come falling out of his mouth. “I think you should go talk to him, Lance. We haven’t left yet, so the two of you need to reconcile enough to get out of here. There’s a closing ceremony of sorts, and they still really want to announce the winners. They considered doing it while you and Keith were in the hospital, but the rest of us asked them to put it off.”

Lance lets out a breath. He knows Shiro is right, but honestly, he’d rather throw up. Or juggle broken glass. Or play hopscotch on pieces of legos. Anything else would be more preferable. He takes another bite of his not-apple, taking a moment to chew and swallow. “I know. I… I will.”

Shiro smiles encouragingly. “It’ll be alright, Lance. I don’t intend to put words in Keith’s mouth, but I know it’ll all turn out okay. Your biggest hurdle is going to be looking him in the eye, swallowing your pride, and apologizing.”

Lance looks up, startled. “ _ Apologizing?  _ I confessed my biggest secret to him and he just grunted! Didn’t even bother to form a single word!”

“From the way Keith told it to me, you didn’t give him much of a chance to gather his thoughts. He didn’t give me any details, but he said that you shared a secret with him, and then left before he could respond. Keith is hella smart, and he thinks through most things he says. You also have to take into account that he literally had just woken up from a coma-like state after being severely poisoned. You picked… you picked an interesting time to spill your heart out to him, is all I’m saying.”

Lance could bring up that at no point did he or, from the sound of it, Keith, say he “spilled his heart out”, but he decides against it. “He insisted!” Lance whines, knowing he’s losing this battle.

Shiro raises a single eyebrow. “Keith, if you’re not already aware Lance,  _ insists  _ on a lot of things. You could have told him no, and he would have had to deal with it.”

Lance just grumbles under his breath. Feeling as though he had sufficiently scolded Lance, Shiro sighs. “Keith’s still in the infirmary, probably pacing. You… You might want to duck as soon as you walk in. He’s… a bit agitated. You know how he gets.” With that, Shiro walks away, looking as though some of the weight of the universe has been lifted from his shoulders.

_ No,  _ Lance thinks, _ he doesn’t know how Keith gets. Sometimes Keith gets annoyed with him, but really, they tend to calm each other down. Lance can’t remember the last time he was truly annoyed with Keith, or the last time Keith was truly annoyed with him. Except, well, right now. _

“Are you okay, bud?” Hunk asks gently.

Lance trembles a little at the empathy in his voice. “I’ve been better.”

“I think talking to Keith will help,” Hunk says. “But you need to be as okay as you’re gonna get before that. Finish your scaraple, rehearse your apology, because you  _ will _ need to apologize, and then go talk to him. He’s irritated, but he cares a lot about you. Knowing you’re okay will… it’ll help.”

“Thanks, Hunk. I… I’ll go now. Get this over with.” Lance turns to walk away.

Hunk smiles. “Look a little less like you’re going to your funeral.”

“Shiro literally warned me to duck because I’m going to get hit with something.”

That pulls a soft laugh out of Hunk, and he hugs Lance again. “But he was right. It’ll be okay. So tell yourself it will be. If you go in thinking you’re gonna fail, you just might. Things are not yet hopeless.”

Privately, he’s pretty sure things are completely hopeless, but Lance hugs Hunk back like he believes there’s any chance this is going to end his favor. “Okay. Thanks, Hunk.”

“Anytime, bud. Good luck.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance goes to Keith, ready to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment y'all have been waiting for :D It's pretty short but jam-packed with angst/fluff/dumdum energy... Enjoy!

Lance stands outside the infirmary door for a full ten dobashes, before working up the courage to open the door and step inside, the door shutting behind him. His eyes find Keith immediately, and Keith’s eyes find his. Keith has paused, mid-pace, the worry on his face frozen there for a moment, before it begins to melt into rage. Lance can’t make himself move.

Keith rushes him and pins him against the door by the collar, holding him high enough off the ground that his toes barely touch the floor. “You get _one_ _word_,” Keith hisses, his anger reddening his face and sharpening his gaze.

Lance swallows. “Sorry,” he whispers, and finds that he means it. “I’m… really sorry, Keith.”

There’s a long moment where they stand there in silence, before Keith slowly lets him down, not letting go of Lance’s collar. “Okay,” Keith says, soft. “That was more than one word, but okay.”

Something heavy evaporates from Lance’s stomach. “I’m… I shouldn’t have left. I’m sorry.” Now that he’s started apologizing, he can’t stop. “I’m sorry I unloaded on you. I’m sorry I just left and didn’t come back, I’m sorry I made you worry. I’m just… I’m so sorry.”

Keith’s fists soften to hands resting on Lance’s chest, thumbs softly exploring the seams around the collar. “Are you okay?” His question is as much an acceptance of his apology as a genuine question.

Lance considers the question. Keith is so close, mere inches, and his hands on his chest are making him nervous. “Not… Not really. But yeah.”

Keith huffs a chuckle. “Me too.”

They are both silent for a long moment.

“What would you have said?” Lance asks finally, his curiosity unable to contain it any longer. “If I hadn’t left.”

Keith blinks, taking a slow deep breath. “I… I don’t know. I was so… so shocked and my head was so fuzzy that… I don’t know. I can… I can tell you what I was thinking though, if you want. That might… might answer your question.” His thumbs press a little harder into Lance’s chest.

Lance has never wanted anything so much in his life. Suddenly breathless, he nods.

“At first, I was thinking about how shocked I was that  _ you _ liked  _ me _ . Then I was thinking about how shocked I was that you  _ liked _ me. Then… Then I realized I should probably tell you my secret too and… Should tell you that… that my silence wasn’t because I was upset or anything, but you… you left before I could string the right words together.”

“Secret?” Lance’s heart has stopped beating.

Keith bites his lip, his eyes focused on Lance’s chest, where his thumbs still trace the seams. “I’ve… got a secret of my own, Lance. I’m… I need to tell you… But,” his voice catches and Lance realizes Keith’s about to cry. He brings his hands up, one landing on Keith’s cheek, the other covering Keith’s hand. “It’s… so difficult. How did you do this without crying?”

Lance snorts. He’s not sure how he pulled that off, because he literally can’t breathe with the anticipation, but he did. “I just didn’t cry in front of you. Trust me, I cried plenty.”

Keith smiles a little, Lance feels it under his palm. He can also feel Keith’s tears. “I… I like you too, Lance. As in, I have a crush on you too.” His voice is nothing more than a whisper, but it makes everything in Lance’s whole body stop.

His brain physically cannot compute. “You… like… me?”

“I’m gay, Lance. That’s… That’s why my foster dad didn’t like me. And you’re… you’re amazing. How could I not like you?”

“Me?” Lance emphasizes, trying to wrap his mind around the impossible. “You…  _ Me? _ ”

Keith smiles, looking at him finally. “Yes. Me. You.”

“Wait… really?”

Keith actually barks a laugh now, baffled. “Yes, Lance. I really do have a crush on you, you dork. Really, I, Keith Kogane, have a crush on you, Lance McClain. The Red paladin has a crush on the Blue paladin. I think you’re cute. I want to date you. How many other ways can I possibly phrase this?”

Lance cannot believe the rush of joy that accompanies every last one of Keith’s sentences. He grins brilliantly, a rush of confidence giving him the ability to say his next thought. “Can I kiss you?”

Keith freezes, but only for a moment. “Yes.”

He’s never sounded more sure in his life, so Lance leans forward and so does Keith, and soon they’re kissing and Lance honestly doesn’t know how he’s made it this far without kissing Keith properly at least once. The first kiss is gentle. The second kiss is less so. The third kiss, Keith’s hands snake around Lance’s wrists and pin them above Lance’s head.

A varga later, they are wearing matching outfits and holding hands contentedly in the dining hall, the other paladins looking a little too smug for Lance’s liking.

“We’re going to do that some more later, right?” Lance whispers in Keith’s ear, pressing a kiss to Keith’s cheek as he pulls away. He doesn’t have to specify.

Keith grins, his eyes bright with excitement. “ _ Definitely _ .”

Lance grins back, crookedly.

Emperor Meeth approaches them, looking pleased. “I’m glad to see you are both feeling better. Shiro mentioned that you caught a terrible cold, Lance. I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, I was really down for the count,” Lance lies convincingly. “It really sucked, but I couldn’t risk anyone else getting sick. Especially not Keith, when he was just getting better again.”

Emperor Meeth nods. “And of course, Keith, we are ever so glad you are better.”

“I’m…  _ indescribably  _ sorry that we didn’t share more details about my heritage with you, Emperor. I don’t really identify as galra, as I don’t remember my mother at all, and with the war, people have a tendency of assuming that just because I share their blood, I share their goals, which I definitely don’t.”

“We all have secrets to bear. To tell you yours are mine to know is hypocritical, as I would not want you to ask the same of me. We are all simply glad we could save you, and thankful for Lance for thinking to tell us.”

“Thanks, Emperor.” Keith smiles, and Emperor Meeth goes to stand at the podium. 

“We will now announce the winners of the tournament!” A pin hitting the floor would echo in the room. “The winners are… Keith and Lance!”

Lance’s jaw hits the floor, and when he looks at Keith, Keith’s face reflects Lance’s shock. How did  _ they _ win? They hardly were the best out of the paladins. They didn’t win the maze, the first challenge was very vague. The third was the only one they were sure they won.

“According to our research in human culture, to win tournaments, the scores are often tallied by physical wins, but that is not how this tournament is scored. If you’ll recall, this tournament is a measure of compatibility. It’s a measure of compassion and empathy and partnership. The willingness to know your partner more intimately than you know yourself is noble and worthy of acknowledgement.”

Lance blinks. “So you’re telling me we won because we were the cutest couple on the gameshow?”

Emperor Meeth blinks in return. “Yes?”

Lance turns to Keith. “We just won the Bachelor.”

Keith frowns. “Have you ever watched the Bachelor?”

Lance shakes his head. 

Keith nods. “Makes sense.”

“What’s our prize?” Lance asks, physically unable to take this seriously. He just kissed his crush, and his crush kissed him back, after a phoeb of fake dating and a phoeb of agony and uncertainty. He literally had a mental breakdown over this mission, sobbed his eyes out more than once, spent an entire phoeb pretending he was pretending to love Keith, who spent a phoeb pretending that he was pretending to love Lance. Life is absolutely ridiculous, completely and utterly absurd, and to pretend it’s anything else is completely ridiculous. 

Emperor Meeth grins. “Bragging rights.”

Lance nods. “Sounds about right.”

Getting back on the Black lion feels strange, cramming everyone into the cockpit. It reminds Lance of the first time they came across the lions, when they all piled into Blue, mostly strangers and definitely not friends. Now, they’re different. They’re friends, but more than that, they’re soldiers. They’ve shared tears and laughter. They’ve shared unimaginable pain and joy.

They’re also older and bigger and they don’t fit nearly as well in the cockpit as they did before. Well, Pidge isn’t any bigger but she is more irritable, which is basically the same thing. 

But, they’re on their way home. Finally.

Keith holds his hand as they take off. Lance presses a kiss to his cheek.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ALL so much for making posting this story an absolute joy! I've received so so many wonderful comments and I cannot express how grateful I am for everyone who read this, even if you didn't want to comment/leave kudos/bookmark/etc. I appreciate you more than you know.

Emperor Meeth sips a beverage and gently pats the bed next to him, watching Reeza shuffle around the room, tidying.  _ I cannot believe we pulled that off, _ Meeth thinks at Reeza, his disbelief written all over his face.  _ I cannot believe they bought it. _

_ They only had the information we gave them. They wanted, more than anything, to make a good impression. They are young and inexperienced. It is not surprising _ , Reeza thinks in return as they finally finish their cleaning and come to lay next to Meeth on the bed. Quietly, they start to braid Meeth’s hair. 

_ They really thought we hadn’t evolved past partnerships. They really believed we still let religion rule our entire lives. Honestly, it’s more telling about them as a species that they would believe such lies than about us. You’re right, of course, that it is very nice of them to want to fit in so totally they’d push pass their personal boundaries in order to satisfy us. But they clearly knew of our species’ prowess in science and research. _

_ _ Reeza chuckles.  _ The joke was also intended to be executed over the course of two quintants. Not a phoeb. The idea was originally that we’d make them uncomfortable for a couple quintants, then reveal their outdated data for what it was. _

_ _ _ But, not only did they buy it for the first weekend, but they bought it for an entire phoeb. And, really, for all intents and purposes, did pretty well. If we had not known of their lack of romantic interests, I may have been fooled.  _ Meeth starts braiding Reeza’s hair too, nuzzling their head.  _ Especially by Keith and Lance. Their chemistry is stunning. _

_ _ _ They were sweet. All of them, really, were quite kind. _

_ _ Meeth sighs, as Reeza finishes their braid and they both settle down to sleep.  _ How do we break it to them next time that the vast majority of their knowledge of our social structure is fundamentally incorrect and out of date? _

_ _ _ I think it may be easier if we don’t, or make a show of doing it later. _

_ _ Chuckling, Meeth’s eyes fall closed.  _ Perhaps, next time, we can make them put on a play to show their devotion to God. _

But Reeza was already asleep.


End file.
